


All I See

by yamarik



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Blindness, Dating, Drama, Misunderstandings, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-21 11:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 23,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14283948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yamarik/pseuds/yamarik
Summary: Yata wakes up one morning inexplicably blind to everything. Everything, that is, except for one person.





	1. Chapter 1

It was nearly half a year since the Dresden Slates were destroyed that it happened: one morning, Yata Misaki woke up blind. 

That was it. No explanation. No sudden trauma to the back of his head. No injuries of any kind. Just one day he could see and the next it was all darkness. It was like his eyes were closed, but he was certain they were open. To test it, he lifted a hand to his forehead and slowly moved his fingers downward, feeling his eyelashes just below his eyebrows, meaning the eyelids were up and his eyes were open. 

Not sure what else to do, Yata felt his way to the edge of his bed and stood, then carefully stumbled his way towards where the door was. He mis-aimed, however, and ran into the small dresser he had in the room. He didn’t hit it that hard because he was moving slowly, but it still hurt, and he swore. He was still trying to remember where the door was from here when he heard it open and Kusanagi’s voice entered the room. 

“You alright, Yata-chan?” he asked. 

“No. I- Kusanagi-san, it’s all dark. I can’t see.” 

He heard the sound of footsteps, two of them, and then he sensed some movement near his face. He could only assume Kusanagi was waving a hand in front of his face to confirm what he’d said. 

“Did you hit your head just now? I heard swearing,” Kusanagi said. 

“No. I stubbed my toe trying to find my way to the door. It was like this when I woke up,” Yata explained. 

“And nothing else has happened? You didn’t get hit on the head during a fight recently, or-” 

“No, nothing! I haven’t hit my head, haven’t had any headaches or anything weird like that, and up until yesterday I could see just fine! So what the fuck is wrong with me?” Yata shouted. It wasn’t fair to take his frustration out on Kusanagi, and he knew it, but how could you expect him to stay calm in a time like this? Besides, better Kusanagi who knew what he was like than some random doctor or nurse. 

“Okay, Yata-chan. I get it. We’ll figure this out, don’t worry.” 

“How?” Yata whined, and he was ashamed to realize there were tears in his eyes. 

“We can take you to a doctor. Seri-chan owes me a favor, so she can probably do it.” 

“S- You mean that blue?!?” Yata exclaimed. 

“Well who is else is going to take you? Anna? Because the rest of our clansmen are too hot headed and scary-looking, and I have to open up the bar, so it’s either Anna who is too young or we ask one of the blues. Unless you’d rather I ask Fushimi instead…” 

“Don’t you dare!” Yata almost screamed. Fushimi Saruhiko was the last person he wanted to see him like this, in a weakened state. If it had been just after the Slates incident, he might have been okay with the idea, but since then, that damn Saruhiko hadn’t even been in touch, which meant they were probably back to being enemies, again, and in that case Saru wouldn’t even hesitate to take advantage of Yata’s lack of sight. Yata clenched his teeth. He’d thought that maybe they were finally back to being friends, damn it! 

“Then Seri-chan it is,” Kusanagi said calmly, as if Yata had not just flipped out on him. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll keep quiet about it. She doesn’t like to admit that things are actually pretty cordial between the two of us to the rest of the blues. Even if nowadays it hardly matters, since the clans are all gone.” 

“But the blues are still helping to round up the greens and transition to the new government system. Surely she’s busy,” Yata said, trying to weasel his way out of spending any time with that woman. 

“Actually, she was here just last night complaining of boredom because she’s been assigned to go over paperwork. Munakata wants everything in perfect order for the transition, so he asked her to check, but she says the desk staff knows what they are doing much better than her and so they won’t even let her touch anything.” 

Yata clicked his tongue in annoyance. 

“Fine,” he muttered. 

“Good boy. Now give me your hand and I’ll help you downstairs to the bar. Or do you want to stop at the bathroom first?” 

“Bathroom.” 

Trying to use the bathroom when he couldn’t see was challenging. As was getting dressed, and eating breakfast, and everything really. By the time he managed to figure out how to brush his teeth after breakfast, Awashima had arrived and was waiting to take him to the doctor’s office. 

“Good morning,” she greeted coolly. 

“Mornin’,” Yata mumbled back. 

“You have toothpaste on your chin,” she informed him. Yata rubbed it off hurriedly, scowling. He bet if she went blind all of a sudden, she’d get toothpaste on her chin too. Or maybe not. Those blues were all so hoity-toity-perfect all the time that they probably would manage to be just as graceful and efficient even without their sight. He’d even bet that Saru would still be able to throw his knives with perfect accuracy. The jerk. 

“Just a moment,” Kusanagi said, stopping Awashima and Yata before they went out the door. He walked to Yata’s side, and then Yata felt something sliding over his temples and being settled on his ears, and there was a new weight on the bridge of his nose. Glasses. 

“There, now you look like a proper blind man,” Kusanagi said. 

“I’ve seen you without those sunglasses before, but it still looks weird every time,” Awashima said. “And it looks even weirder seeing them on him instead.” 

Yata wasn’t sure which of them he wanted to punch more, but it didn’t really matter since he’d probably miss and hit a wall instead. Or worse, he might hit something Totsuka-san had brought into the bar. He’d never forgive himself if he did that. Nor would the rest of HOMRA. And Anna. There’s no way Anna would ever talk to him again. 

Awashima and Yata set off, not talking as they walked along to the train station. Yata hated to admit it, but Awashima was actually a pretty good guide, giving him good warnings about obstacles, stopping him in good time, and even pointing out how some of the crosswalks had chirps to let him know whether or not to walk. With her help, he began to rely on his ears a bit more, and soon learned the sound of an intersection. But he still needed her help to navigate, and to get through the train station, and to help him find a seat on the train- which was apparently rather empty for this time of day if there were open seats. They reached the station they were getting off at and exited the train and then the station. When they entered the sunlight, Yata could feel it on his skin, but there was no difference in the darkness that surrounded him. Whatever had affected his eyes, it had him completely. 

Three intersections after leaving the train station, Awashima guided Yata into a building. He could tell they’d gone through a door based on the dinging of a bell and the sudden drop of temperature caused by entering an air-conditioned area. He shivered a little as Awashima tugged him forward, then had him sit. He heard her walk away, and could just vaguely hear her talking to a receptionist of some sort. He didn’t hear what they were saying exactly, but he knew it had to be about him and why he was there. 

It was nearly 20 minutes before they were called in to see the doctor, and in that time Yata grew extremely irritated. This place seemed designed to annoy him. There was the waiting time, there was the AC that was on too high, there was the repetitive sniffling of the receptionist who probably had a cold because of the AC, and there was the tinny sound of muzak coming through the speakers for patients to listen to as they waited. There were probably magazines to read- which would almost certainly be stupid gossipy stuff about what diets which celebrities were on or whatever- but the fact that Yata couldn’t read anything at the moment thanks to his sudden loss of vision was the whole reason he was here in the first place. It was infuriating. This place couldn’t get much worse. 

Once in the examination room, the doctor presumably conducted some sort of eye examination, but Yata couldn’t be certain of much other than the doctor asking him to take off Kusanagi’s sunglasses, then asking him to read an eye chart. After Yata finished cussing him out, the doctor went ahead and tilted Yata’s head this way and that, probably shining a light into his eyes as he did, though Yata didn’t see anything. The doctor kept muttering things like “odd” and “I’ve never seen anything like this”, which wasn’t exactly reassuring. Then Yata was asked to sit while they performed some scans or something with machines that hummed quietly and beeped. He was sent out to wait for the scans to be processed, and subjected to more of the waiting room hell. When he was called back in, it was only for the doctor to carefully avoid saying that he had no clue what the heck was going on because as far as he could tell, everything was perfectly normal. They left quickly after that, as if Awashima suspected just how pissed Yata was getting. Which was extremely pissed. All that trouble to be told that there shouldn’t be anything wrong with him? What bullshit. 

Over the next few days, they repeated the process three more times. Go to a doctor’s office. Sit in a waiting room and feel the homicidal impulses slowly build. See a doctor who didn’t seem to understand that “I can’t see anything” meant “I have no clue where the freaking eye chart even is, let alone what is written on it, dipshit”. Undergo some tests. Wait for results. Get told that nothing is wrong. Hurry on home before an actual murder gets committed. Hooray. After the second such excursion, Anna also accompanied them, since Yata tended to behave a bit better after a sharp word from his king, even if she wasn’t truly a king anymore. 

After the fourth attempt at a diagnosis, Yata refused to go to any more of them. They weren’t accomplishing anything. He already knew he was blind, and he already didn’t know the cause. He didn’t need doctors to tell him the former and not do anything about the latter. 

Yata was blind. And it seemed there was nothing he, or anyone, could do about it.


	2. Chapter 2

There were a few things that Fushimi Saruhiko wished for. 

For Yata Misaki to look at him. 

For Yata Misaki to look ONLY at him. 

But most of all, he wished to erase the day he and Misaki had met Suoh Mikoto and the rest of HOMRA. 

Because Fushimi had been looking at Misaki for years now. Practically since they met. Originally it had been fine. They were a couple of social rejects who tolerated the company of the other better than anyone else, so they hung out and became something akin to friends. And it had been fine. Misaki hadn’t needed anyone but him, and he hadn’t needed anyone but Misaki. 

Only then Suoh Mikoto showed up and invited them into his clan. And that had ruined everything. Misaki had jumped right into the midst of HOMRA, eager to immerse himself in this newfound camaraderie. He started surrounding himself with people always, and while he still kept Fushimi close, it wasn’t enough. In fact, it was quite painful, because for the first time Fushimi realized that he wasn’t special to Misaki, and that he wanted to be. He’d thought he had been, but now he was one of many friends. And if anyone was special to Misaki, it was their newfound king. The first time Fushimi noticed the adoration in Misaki’s eyes as he looked at Suoh Mikoto, he almost vomited from the taste of the bile in his mouth. And that taste only got worse with time, until he couldn’t take it anymore and left HOMRA and joined SCEPTRE 4 instead, hoping to see the end of Suoh and also learning, much to his pleasure, how much attention Misaki gave to one who had betrayed him. It was negative attention, but at least when they were fighting Misaki focused on him. 

Only now everything was peaceful between HOMRA and SCEPTRE 4, and had been ever since that time they had formed the three king alliance against JUNGLE. There was no more fighting between them. And Fushimi no longer knew how to deal with Misaki unless they were fighting. He’d hoped maybe since Misaki had come to his aid in the final fight that destroyed the slates, that Misaki might seek him out as a friend again, but nothing had happened. And so Fushimi busied himself with his work, since SCEPTRE 4 was helping with the government transition and was changing their duties to match the times. Meanwhile, HOMRA was lying low, mostly just hanging out at Kusanagi’s bar. 

And then came the day when Fushimi got wind of a new development, and he fell into a nightmare. The kind of nightmare that is made worse by the fact that it is not a dream at all, but reality. 

It started with Awashima returning to the office. Everyone knew she was unsuited for her current assignment of going over paperwork, and they knew how bored she was, and no one faulted her for going out rather than attempting to follow orders and ending up sitting around and doing nothing. 

They all greeted her as she came in, and she returned the greetings, and then sat down at her desk and pulled out some anko. Fushimi tried not to flinch. It was always anko with that woman. Sometimes he almost began to wonder if she ever ate anything else. 

And then Akiyama walked into the room. 

“Oh, Lieutenant, you’re back,” he said. 

“Yes,” Awashima sighed. 

“The captain wanted to see you. I told him you went to get some coffee, but would stop by when you got back. Where were you, anyway?” 

“I had some business to attend to. Thank you for covering for me, I’ll head right up.” 

Awashima thankfully put the bean paste away, and left the room. 

“Business, huh?” Domyouji said after Awashima was gone. “I wonder what business she could possibly have with HOMRA’s Yatagarasu.” 

Fushimi, who had been checking for signs of JUNGLE activity, closed the forum he was on and opened up another. He hadn’t really looked at the forum he’d closed, but he didn’t want to make it obvious how closely he was listening. 

“Yatagarasu? And our lieutenant? You must be mistaken,” Fuse argued. 

“I almost didn’t believe it myself, but there was no mistaking it. When she went out two days ago, I saw her and that guy together. They were holding hands, and he was dressed nicer than usual too.” 

“I don’t believe it. Those two would be a horrible match.” Fushimi agreed with this statement. Fuse was right about Awashima and Misaki being a horrible match. Misaki was always so awkward around girls, so the idea of him dating one was ludicrous. And there was no way Awashima was good enough for him. And what did Kusanagi think of this? Didn’t Misaki know how close those two were? Didn’t he know what a perfectionist the lieutenant was? Didn’t he know how much goddamn anko that woman ate? 

“Enough gossipping,” Akiyama ordered. “Besides, there’s probably some other explanation.” 

Yes. There was probably some other explanation. But as Fushimi scanned more forums without really seeing them, he could not think of a single one. Why would Misaki and Awashima spend time together if they weren’t dating? Maybe they wanted to buy a birthday present for Kusanagi? But Kusanagi’s birthday wasn’t for months. 

It really made no sense. They had nothing in common. Nothing at all. And Fushimi had wanted Misaki first. Awashima could just get lost, since Misaki was Fushimi’s, and for her to try and steal him away was completely unfair. Not that she even could steal him away in the first place. 

And yet… 

_“He was dressed nicer than usual,”_ Domyouji had said. Misaki hated to wear anything that wasn’t his usual loose sweater and baggy shorts or his jeans and down vest if it was cold. He simply did not dress up. He probably had other clothes, but he almost never wore them. 

_“They were holding hands,”_ he’d said. Why would Misaki and Awashima be holding hands? What possible reason could there be? 

No. Fushimi did not want to think about it. He did not want to even consider the possibility. But he had to. 

If Awashima was making moves on Misaki, then there was only one thing for Fushimi to do, and that was to get Misaki to fall for him first. It was time to hurry up and make a move. 

* * *

Almost two weeks since it had started, Yata was getting used to not being able to see, and he did not like it. 

He could get dressed now on his own. He could brush his teeth without getting toothpaste all over his face. He’d figured out how to use the bathroom, and could even make himself instant ramen. And since Kusanagi was all about self-sufficiency for everyone but Anna, that meant Yata was eating a lot of instant ramen. Some of the others took pity on him and made him other food, but he actually kinda preferred the ramen. It tasted like self-loathing, and that’s about how he felt these days. 

He was slurping up yet another cup of cheap, processed noodles and wallowing when he heard a ringing sound. His watch. He fumbled to ignore the call, but apparently messed up, because after the ringing stopped, he went back to slurping his ramen, only to hear a voice filtered by a phone line saying “If you’re going to answer, you should at least say something, Misaki.” 

Yata yelped as his ramen slipped from his hand and spilled, some of it landing on him. 

“Fuck, shit, goddamnit Saru! You made me spill my ramen, asshole!” 

“Ah, that’s too bad.” 

“At least sound like you’re sorry you damn monkey!” 

“You can blame it on me all you want, but in the end it’s really your fault, Misaki.” 

“Fuck you. What do you even want? You can’t just call out of the blue and-” 

“Tomorrow, 11:00, Red Leaf Park. Meet me on the east side.” 

“Wha- Saru!” Yata said, but there was already the clicking sound of the call ending. That damn Saru. What was he thinking? Was this some kind of challenge? Did Saru think that since Yata had gone blind, he could just bully him however? Well Yata had no intentions of losing to that jerk! He’d accept the challenge, and he would show Saru just how tough he was. It would be the same as if he beat Saru with his eyes closed. 

Yata was just trying to figure out how he was going to get to Red Leaf Park tomorrow when the bell above the door dinged. 

“Oy! Yata-chan, what happened! You’re a mess!” Kamamoto yelled, and Yata grinned. When Kamamoto came over to move him away from the spill to clean it up, Yata hooked an arm around him, actually managing to find his neck. 

“Hey Fatty, I need your help getting to Red Leaf Park tomorrow,” Yata said, grinning. 

“Yata-chan, you’re choking me.” 

“Are you going to help me out?” 

“I need to clean this up…” 

“That’s not a no.” 

“Why do you even need to go to the park anyway?” 

“So I can beat that Saru up.” 

“Fushimi? Yata-chan, you can’t even beat him up when you can see. How do you expect to beat him blind?” 

“Shut up! I can beat him whenever I want!” 

Kamamoto didn’t answer, meaning he doubted Yata. Rude. As if Yata couldn’t take that traitor. 

“Whatever. I need to be there tomorrow at 11. If you won’t take me, I’ll get there myself.” 

That guaranteed Kamamoto’s cooperation, Yata knew. Any time he threatened to try and go anywhere by himself these days, someone from HOMRA would suddenly free up their schedule to accompany him. Normally it was annoying that they all seemed to think he was completely helpless now, but the fact that they were all certain he would walk out in front of a speeding car in his blindness was awfully convenient at the moment. 

“Okay, fine, now let go so I can clean this up before Kusanagi sees it and throws a fit.” 

“I knew I could count on you.” Yata smirked in satisfaction, not caring if Kamamoto saw. 

That evening, Yata found his way to the alley behind the bar and spent half an hour punching and kicking the air and practicing, getting ready for tomorrow. He couldn’t wait for Saru’s surprise when he beat the guy tomorrow. Saru was probably challenging him because that annoying woman from the blues had probably blabbed about him being blind, but he was going to prove that even if he was blind, he was still in top shape. He was HOMRA’s Yatagarasu, and he would not lose so easily. 

When Yata went back inside, he felt better than he had since he first lost his sight. He should have known that he would feel lousy being so stagnant. He was an active person, and movement suited him. How he had managed to sit around so much the past week and a half was a wonder. But no more of that. From now on he’d be up and about again. Yatagarasu was back. 

The next morning, Anna was at the bar for breakfast. Back in the day, when their clan had been everything, this had been a common occurrence, but recently it was less so. For one, Anna had started going to school again after avoiding it for years. This meant if she came all the way to the bar, she’d risk being late. Today Yata was up early, excited at the prospect of a fight, but when he heard her greet him he did still wonder if she wouldn’t miss her first class. The other thing was, these days she often sought out her new friend, the former J-rank of JUNGLE, Sukuna. No one from HOMRA was happy about their friendship, but Kusanagi insisted they let it be. And Yata had to admit, if anyone could be a positive influence on that little shitstain, it was Anna. She’d even managed to convince him to join her in returning to school. 

After Yata was settled with a bowl of cereal for breakfast, Anna spoke up. Smart of her to wait until he couldn’t run away. 

“Misaki, Rikio said you’re going to get into a fight with Saruhiko,” Anna said. 

“That damn fatty blabbermouth.” Yata muttered, before answering. “Yeah, I’m gonna beat him to a pulp.” 

“You can’t.” 

“Yes I can! I’ll totally kick his butt! Just because I can’t see right now-” 

“No, you can’t. It’s not right. You two should not be enemies.” 

“Well tell that to him. Saru’s the one who challenged me. And he’s also the one who hasn’t called at all since that time before, even though I totally saved his ass back there, but I guess he can’t even be bothered to say a simple ‘thank you’ and instead would rather pick fights with me.” 

“Misaki, did you ever try calling him?” 

“He’s the one who’s always busy with work. I didn’t want to bother him. Besides, it’s not like he doesn’t know how to use a phone.” 

“Maybe you should have tried calling anyway. Saruhiko tends to not say what’s on his mind, even when it’s really important. He chooses an indirect approach to things. It’s even possible that this challenge is his attempt at trying to be friends with you.” 

“Well if this is the best he can do to be friends then I’d rather just stay enemies,” Yata said. 

“Saruhiko has never been your enemy.” 

“What are you talking about? He’s been my enemy ever since he joined those blues.” 

“He is not your enemy. And you should not go to fight him.” 

“I’m not backing down, Anna.” 

“No. I suppose you won’t,” Anna said. Yata heard her get up, and her footsteps moved away. He returned to his cereal. 

“Misaki?” Anna’s voice was distant, probably from by the door. 

Yata hummed rather than answer with a mouth full of cereal. 

“Be careful. We’d all be sad if you got hurt.” 

The bell dinged as Anna left, and Yata scowled. Now even Anna was treating him as if he’d become something super delicate. It wasn’t like he was made of glass. 

After he finished his breakfast, Yata could not sit still. Kusanagi threatened several times to kick him out of the bar- an empty threat since he wanted to keep Yata within the sight of those members of HOMRA who could still see. Eventually he set Yata to wiping tables, even though he kept his tables pristine and also it wasn’t like Yata could see any smudges on the surfaces. But it gave Yata something to do for a while, which was a relief to them both. 

By the time Yata had wiped all the tables fifteen times, though, he’d had enough. And it still wasn’t time to go. Luckily one of the other clansmen came by, and so they went out back and Yata tried skateboarding blind. On the one hand, he knew what he was doing well enough that sight didn’t matter, but on the other hand, sight did matter when he couldn’t see where he was going. But it helped calm him down, centering him with a peace that was unusual for him. 

And then Kamamoto was there, telling him that they needed to go because they weren’t going to make it to the park by 11. When had so much time passed by? 

As they headed over to the park, Yata’s nerves again began to buzz. This was it. Him and Saru. Two old enemies trying to destroy each other. He’d always loved a good fight. 

“Alright, we’re here. Where did he say to meet him?” Kamamoto asked. 

“On the east side. He wasn’t any more specific than that. Probably wants to get the drop on me.” 

“Let’s head that way then,” Kamamoto said, and tugged Yata’s arm in the direction they needed to go. Yata followed, keeping aware for the cues he’d learned to follow when he had to rely on people to guide him. 

“I still don’t see him. Maybe you should call him,” Kamamoto said. 

And then it happened. A sudden flash of color in the midst of all the darkness. 

“He’s over there,” Yata said, pointing. “I see him.” 

“Huh? Is he? Oh. He is.” 

“No. You didn’t hear me. I said I SEE him. I actually see him.” 

“Wait, really? Then-” 

“Just him though. Everything else is still dark.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Of all the things to be able to see still, why did it have to be that stupid Saru? Come on.” 

Yata began to move forward towards Saru, and Kamamoto followed after him, protesting that he needed to slow down, he was going to run into something. More likely he just couldn’t move as fast thanks to all his blubber. But Yata did slow down, since he was brushing against a lot of people and it was easier to follow in Kamamoto’s wake. 

As they neared Saru, Yata called out a greeting. “Yo, Saru!” 

Saru looked up with an annoyed expression. Well, it wasn’t like they didn’t come here to fight, was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the misunderstandings begin...


	3. Chapter 3

Misaki was late. Maybe he wasn’t coming. No. He had to come. Fushimi had spent too much time preparing for this date. He’d planned every last detail, and chosen very carefully, keeping Misaki’s preferences in consideration. He was going to do this right, and blow Misaki away with what a nice date it was. He was going to show him that Awashima was little more than her oversized bosoms, whereas he was someone who was actually worth Misaki’s time. He could do this. So why was he so nervous? 

“Yo, Saru!” Misaki’s voice called. Fushimi looked up, trying not to look too eager, and scowled, having to look away almost immediately. Damn it. Why did Misaki have to bring that fatty along? And what was with those sunglasses? Was he trying to look cool? Did he think that if he emulated Kusanagi, he’d seem more mature? And how come he had apparently dressed up for his date with Awashima, but was dressed normally today? Was he not taking this seriously? 

Well, at least he’d showed up. Fushimi was starting off from behind, but he was going to catch up and take the lead and win Misaki’s heart. He just needed a chance, and since Misaki was here, he had that. 

Fushimi stood up from the bench he’d been sitting on, leaving his hands in his pockets as he did. 

“Yo, Misaki,” he said. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up.” 

“What, did you think I’d be scared?” 

Given that Misaki became a stammering mess around girls it wasn’t that far a stretch of the imagination that he would be afraid of dating, but Fushimi didn’t say this. He was not going to insult Misaki today. Compliments. Compliments were good. Compliments were needed to earn Misaki’s favor. Unfortunately, Fushimi didn’t really do compliments. 

“Not really. Just you were running late. Let’s go. Later, Kamamoto,” Fushimi said, grabbing Misaki’s hand. Kamamoto started to say something, but Misaki waved over his shoulder and called “Bye, Fatty!” Kamamoto made an indignant noise and stalked off in the opposite direction. Good. Fushimi didn’t have any desire for some shitty third wheel on this date. 

“So where are we going?” Misaki asked. 

“Haven’t you ever heard of a surprise?” Fushimi asked back, rolling his eyes. 

“You mean like you calling me up out of the blue despite not having anything to do with me for months? Not all surprises are appreciated, Saru.” 

Well there was always the other part of the date… 

“Lunch.” 

“Lunch?” 

“Yes. It’s a meal, usually had in the middle of the day.” 

“I know what lunch is! No need to be sarcastic. Just… why?” 

“Because it’s lunchtime. I’m buying, so no need to get so worried.” 

“I bet you just want me to owe you,” Misaki grumbled. 

“You always think the worst of people,” Fushimi said, more to himself than to Misaki, but Misaki still got indignant. 

“You’re the one who gives me reason to think badly of you!” he squawked. 

“And from now on I intend to give you only reasons to think well of me. Come on. We’re almost there.” 

“Almost where?” 

“An Italian bistro I found. It’s really good.” 

Misaki stopped in his tracks. 

“I don’t wanna go there,” he said. 

“Misaki, quit being a petulant child. I know it’s habit for you but-” 

“Taiyaki.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

“I’m not. I wanna eat taiyaki. The green tea kind!” 

“You little asshole. Fine. We passed a taiyaki stand just a bit ago. How many will you want?” 

“Two.” 

“You really should eat healthier.” 

“Healthy food is too hard to make.” 

“So buy some.” 

Misaki snorted. They doubled back and found the taiyaki stand, and Fushimi went to purchase the food. They found a bench to sit on as they ate. As they sat and watched people going through the park, Fushimi looked up at the sky. The clouds were moving faster than predicted, and he supposed it might be a good thing they were having such a quick meal over what he’d had planned. At the rate things were going, they might only just make it in time even with the lighter lunch. 

When they’d finished eating, Fushimi threw out their trash. It was odd, since normally any time anyone tried to do even the slightest thing for Misaki, he’d get angry and protest that he could do it himself, but today he was letting Fushimi do a lot for him. Even if it was a date, it seemed peculiar that Misaki was being so passive and subdued. 

“You’re not sick are you?” Fushimi asked as they headed out of the park. 

“I’m perfectly healthy!” Misaki snapped, and Fushimi almost sighed with relief. That was more like it. 

“Good,” he said. If Misaki was sick at all, this date might be not be a good idea. Fushimi led the way, moving towards the destination he’d chosen so carefully. He’d planned this specifically with Misaki in mind, and was certain he would like it. 

“Where are we going now?” Misaki asked. 

“Train station. There’s something I need to grab from the coin lockers there, and then we’ll go the rest of the way.” 

“The rest of the way to where?” 

“It’s a secret.” 

They entered the train station and headed toward the lockers, Misaki following close behind him. He could almost feel Misaki’s breath on him, and it was wonderful. At the correct locker, he pulled out the key and opened it up, pulling out a blanket. Misaki made no comment about it. After all his earlier curiosity, it was surprising that Misaki would take this of all things in stride. Fushimi had honestly though that this would be the point where Misaki would dig his heels in and refuse to go any farther along with this unless he laid his plans out. He was glad though, since he really did want it to be a surprise. 

Once the blanket was retrieved, they set off again, and this time Fushimi even dared to take Misaki’s hand again. Misaki said nothing, though he did blush a little, and Fushimi felt himself melt just a little at how cute this guy was. The jealous part of Fushimi ruined the moment though, wondering if Misaki had blushed like this when Awashima held his hand in hers. Fushimi scowled and tried to chase the thought away, but it stayed there, persistently lodged in his brain. 

They made it just in time. Thunder was rumbling in the distance as they headed for the perfect shelter that Fushimi had found. A bus stop with three and a half glass walls around a bench as well as a glass ceiling. The side away from the street looked out on an open field that eventually became a beach. 

“We’re here,” Fushimi said. 

“Here being…?” Misaki asked. Fushimi supposed a bus stop by the beach was a bit of an odd destination. 

“Just wait. It should be starting soon,” Fushimi replied, taking a seat on the bench. As if his words were some kind of cue, the skies opened up and rain began to pour down. Misaki jumped a little then sat down next to Fushimi. 

“I don’t get it,” he said. 

“Turn around and face the beach. We’ll be able to see the storm over the water from here. I think you’ll like it.” 

Misaki peered at Fushimi, carefully studying him, then obediently turned towards the water. His eyes were distant as he looked out over the beach. 

The wind was picking up, and even in the relative shelter of the bus stop, it was chilly, and so Fushimi unfolded the blanket. He hesitated a moment, and then, blanket in hand, wrapped and arm around Misaki’s shoulder. Misaki started, and again turned to look at him suspiciously. Fushimi said nothing, did nothing, just stared at the water as it began to churn. Maybe Misaki would push him away. Or maybe… 

Misaki relaxed, and Fushimi thought his heart might beat out of his chest. The rain, which had already been heavy, picked up, becoming torrential. The wind was howling, and it threatened to push the rain into the bus stop and drench them anyway. 

“Let’s go out there,” Misaki said suddenly. 

“Are you crazy? You’ll get soaked.” 

“Whatever, I’m going out there.” 

“We better not get struck by lightning,” Fushimi grumbled, but he folded up the blanket and left if on the bench as they left the shelter and entered the downpour. Fushimi wanted to complain about the sheer misery of it, but then Misaki laughed and spun around and this was everything he’d wanted out of this date, right here. Misaki, happy, together with him. 

He really wanted to kiss this boy. But would doing so in the rain be too cliche? 

He also really wanted to take those sunglasses off of Misaki. Who wore sunglasses when it was this dark and pouring rain? Only a loser, that’s who. It didn’t suit Misaki at all. It only took about thirty seconds before Fushimi started to shiver. It was cold out in the wind and rain. And he was not dressed for it at all. Neither was Misaki, and now that he looked, Misaki was shivering too, though he tried to cover it with movement. 

“Alright, back inside,” Fushimi said. He had to almost shout to be heard over the sound of an excessive amount of water hitting the ground continuously. 

“Awwwww,” Misaki whined, but he held out a hand and Fushimi took it and led the way back into the bus shelter. He discreetly eyed the way Misaki’s shirt had become slightly see-through and clung to him. But it was hard not to just ogle the other boy, since Fushimi certainly liked what he could see. 

Back under the shelter, they both began wringing out their clothes a little, so that they would at least not drip everywhere. Once he’d squeezed out as much of the water as he could, Fushimi picked up the blanket and wrapped it around himself, then walked up to Misaki and hugged him from behind. Misaki made a slight strangled noise, but then sighed and leaned back into him. Fushimi closed his eyes, enjoying this moment. How nice would it be if it never ended. 

* * *

Yata wasn’t sure at what point he forgot that Saru had called him up for a challenge, but he did. Maybe it was when Saru was holding him from behind, and he had said that playing in the storm had been fun, and Saru had whispered in his ear, “I knew you’d like it,” and it had sent pleasant shivers all up and down his spine. But no, it had to be before that because he’d let Saru come up behind him like that in the first place. At the moment, Saru was the one thing he could see, and the one person he could keep an eye on if he didn’t trust him. He’d stopped watching Saru, which meant he’d stopped expecting a fight. 

In hindsight, it was probably out in the rain. The rain that Saru had all but called down like some kind of god. The rain that had felt like it was washing away all the worries and frustrations of the past couple of weeks. The rain that made it completely okay that he was blind, because he could still feel the rain, and hear it, and smell it. 

After the storm had died down, Saru had walked him back to HOMRA. And that’s when Yata had messed up. 

He’d been at the door, about to open it and enter, when he’d looked back and seen Saru still standing there, a strange expression on his face. One that looked… happy? Content? Whatever it was, it wasn’t a scowl or Saru’s usual bland expression. And that was what made Yata call out to him. 

“Hey, um, Saru?” 

“Yeah?” 

“We should… we should do this again sometime.” 

And then Saru had suddenly closed the distance between them, and had planted an arm against the door to the bar on either side of Yata. Yata had been too startled to say anything, to do anything other than look at Saru’s eyes, which seemed to be trying to bore their way into his soul, and then suddenly Saru’s eyelids fluttered shut and Saru was pressing his lips to Yata’s. 

“Yeah. Until next time, Misaki,” Saru had said before Yata could recover, and then he was walking off. 

Yata had fumbled for the doorknob and entered the bar in a daze. Luckily it was still before business hours, since he stumbled in almost drunkenly, like the kind of customer Kusanagi always kicked out immediately. He ran into no less than four chairs and a table as he tried to navigate through the bar, despite having learned how to walk anywhere in this building without running into things. 

He made it to the stools by the bar and sat down heavily, managing not to fall on his ass in the process. It was a near thing though. 

Saru had just kissed him. Why had he kissed him? Didn’t Saru hate him? And didn’t he hate Saru? So why was he feeling all warm inside over that? 

“Aaaaaaaaaaaa,” Yata moaned, lowering his head onto the bar as he realized it all. 

“Who’s there?” Kusanagi’s voice called, and then footsteps approached, coming from one of the other rooms. “Yata-chan?!? What’s wrong?!” Kusanagi asked. 

Yata shook his head, keeping it down on the bar as he did so. How could he have been so stupid? That had never been a challenge at all. Sure, Saru hadn’t exactly done a good job asking him out, but that had almost certainly been a date. And he’d just suggested that they go on another one.


	4. Chapter 4

It was two days before Saru called again. In that time, Yata had managed to get help in reprogramming his ringtone to announce the caller. He was glad that he’d done so, and glad that he was alone in his room when the call came through, because he felt the blush take over him right away, and he curled up to hug his legs as he used a voice command to answer it. He had to try twice, since the first time his voice broke so badly that it didn’t register. But then the ringing sound stopped, and he was trying his hardest to keep his voice steady as he said “Hello?” He didn’t quite manage it though. 

“Misaki, do you have a yukata?” Saru asked. 

“Yeah. Why?” 

“Because you’re going to need it for the festival tomorrow night. I’ll be at HOMRA at 7.” 

The line went dead as Saru hung up. Yata wondered if that guy ever actually said goodbye to anyone on the phone, or if the sudden hang-ups were something used only on him. It was nice to be special, but that was just plain rude. And so was his just ordering Yata about telling him when and where and deciding on his own what they would be doing. Like, sure it was working alright since Yata was still adjusting to being blind and learning what sorts of things he could and couldn’t do, but he didn’t like being treated this way. There could at least be some discussion. A request for his opinion on the matter. 

Well, whatever. Yata had other things to worry about at the moment, like finding his yukata and asking Kusanagi to help him put it on tomorrow. 

* * *

Yata wearing a yukata was one of the most ridiculous sights Fushimi had ever seen. He wished he’d thought to bring a camera so he could treasure it forever. It was also a bit of a turn-on, despite how incongruous it seemed. And so Fushimi found himself telling Misaki that the yukata suited him, like he was in some cheesy romance story. In Fushimi’s opinion, the people in romance stories who said such things were unlikely to actually get someone to fall for them in real life. Though part of that opinion stemmed from the fact that the characters who said those kinds of things also tended to be the same people who would go running after a bus yelling a person’s name or publicly declaring their love for everyone to hear or just generally being such an embarrassment that it was no wonder they got left standing forlorn in the rain after getting rejected. What was a wonder was the fact that those characters in the stories were getting rejected because of circumstances that would be overcome through the sheer power of love at the end of chapter 19, or in episode 12, or an hour and a half into the movie. Regardless, in real life such people would get rejected because surely no one actually wanted someone like that. Fushimi certainly didn’t. And he didn’t want to be someone like that either. He may have been willing to stand in the rain for Misaki’s sake, as evidenced by their first date, but he was not about to let himself get rejected, even if it would all work out in the end, and by saying that Misaki looked good in the yukata, he’d just taken the first step towards that ending. But he wasn’t about to start chasing any busses, so perhaps all was still well. 

And then Misaki told him that his yukata also looked good on him, and suddenly Fushimi didn’t mind the idea of being in a cheesy romance story so much. Especially if Misaki was the one who was melodramatic about everything, since he certainly fit the role quite well. 

They headed off to the festival, and Fushimi tried not to smirk at how well things were going. A festival was the perfect place for some hand-holding. There would be lots of people, and holding hands was the ideal way to keep from getting separated in the crowd. He supposed Misaki would want to try some of the games and that would require him to relinquish the other’s hand, but when that happened he’d just make Misaki compensate him for it by winning him a prize. And maybe kissing at the end of the date again. Perhaps during the fireworks? No, that was too cliche, and definitely cheesy romance story material. Never ever would he allow any kissing to happen when there were fireworks going off. 

But then they went about exploring the festival, and Misaki was not at all himself. Fushimi had expected that the first game they saw, Misaki would be tugging on his hand and pointing, saying he wanted to try it. But instead, Misaki stayed close to Fushimi, and ever so slightly behind him, like a shy child. Perhaps Misaki was embarrassed being seen on a date with another guy. Some people did look down on gay couples, after all. But he wouldn’t have expected such opinions to bother Misaki. They never had before. Back in school, Misaki hadn’t cared if people thought him an idiot, or a delinquent, or any of that stuff. The only slights that he couldn’t shrug off were the ones against HOMRA. You told Misaki he was a waste of space, he’d laugh. You said the same thing about one of his clansmen, he’d still laugh, but the laughter would be followed by him beating the shit out of you. 

After wandering the stalls for a while without Misaki showing interest in any of the games, Fushimi decided it was time to eat. He bought some takoyaki to share, since he knew Misaki liked it. Misaki liked most things with yaki in the name: takoyaki, taiyaki, teriyaki, okonomiyaki, yakisoba, yakiniku. Probably because of the kanji for it. 

And that was where Fushimi finally noticed. There was something hesitant in the way Misaki took the takoyaki. Almost like he didn’t know what it was. And when he stabbed the takoyaki with the toothpick, it was off to the side, when any sensible person would stab in the middle. And there was something else… Something about his eyes. It was hard to see behind the sunglasses, which Misaki was still wearing even though they didn’t match the yukata at all. And since it was night the fact that he was wearing them made him look like a total tool and Fushimi really wanted to snatch them off his face. And also without the sunglasses, Fushimi would be able to see Misaki’s eyes better- whether for the theoretical cheesy gazing into each other’s eyes that was not going to happen (because hadn’t Fushimi already decided against any cheesy romance situations?) or for the sake of trying to figure out what seemed odd about Misaki’s eyes tonight. 

Not surprisingly, Misaki caught Fushimi staring. 

“Aren’t you going to eat any?” he asked, offering the takoyaki and looking away as his cheeks colored with a blush. 

Perhaps it had just been Fushimi’s imagination that something was wrong with Misaki’s eyes. When Misaki skewered the next takoyaki, Fushimi leaned forward and ate it before Misaki could. The fact that it was stolen from his boyfriend made it all the more delicious. 

And then it was time. Fushimi led the way to the riverside, where people were already clustering for the fireworks show. They sat while they waited, and then when the announcement came that the show was starting, they stood up as people got ever closer. Once again, Fushimi found himself hugging Misaki from behind, and he realized he rather liked it like this: holding Misaki close to him and having Misaki lean back on him rather than return the hug. The fireworks started, and suddenly that urge for acting like someone in a cheesy romance story was back because did he ever want to just kiss Misaki right now. To let the figurative fireworks between just the two of them explode into fiery flowers like the literal fireworks in the sky. 

There were so many people around them, but Fushimi managed to maneuver himself back to Misaki’s side. He looked over to see the other boy’s face. And suddenly, there was no room for thoughts of kissing or making out or anything that had been on his mind, because Misaki- his Misaki- was crying. 

* * *

It hadn’t been the most fun he’d ever had at a festival, but Yata had still been enjoying it when the fireworks started. They’d been sitting there, and Yata had thought maybe they were just going to rest a bit before heading home or something, when there’d been the announcement that the fireworks would be starting and he’d realized that there was no point in staying to watch fireworks he couldn’t see. But Saru had helped him up and once again positioned himself behind Yata, and how could Yata point that out? But then he’d heard the first one go off, and he could remember, so vividly, how when he was little he’d been afraid of the noises the fireworks made, and only his love for the colorful patterns in the sky had helped him to get over it. He felt like that small child again. He could remember every fireworks show he’d ever watched, and how the bursts of light had felt like strength bursting in his heart and flowing through his blood. For a while, he’d even believed that fireworks went off because someone, somewhere, just had their hopes and dreams come true. He remembered how that sight had made him feel. But now, there was nothing. He could not see the fireworks, could not see the hopes and dreams coming true. Maybe they weren’t coming true at all. Maybe his hopes and dreams were useless. 

Reality set in like a ton of bricks. He might never see again. There might never be anything else for him to see. From now on, things that had been so beautiful to him when he could see would just be dull sounds, angry booms in the distance. 

He barely felt when Saru shifted from behind him, though he did notice Saru moving along his side since, as Saru was the one thing Yata could actually see, he tended to be pretty noticeable. He tried to look forward, toward where the fireworks must be going off, tried to feign interest, but he still saw concern on Saru’s face from the corner of his eye, and then Saru was tugging on his arm and dragging him through the crowd, away from the display. 

He could no longer feel the press of people around him when they stopped, and Saru spun around to face him and grab his arms just below the shoulders. The worry on Saru’s face was palpable. 

“Misaki, are you okay?” Saru asked. 

“I’m fine,” Yata replied, but his voice came out all wrong. It was shaky, and bleak. No, this was not how he was supposed to sound. He opened his mouth to try again, to sound energetic as he told Saru that really, he was fine, but Saru was already pressing on. 

“No you’re not. What’s wrong, Misaki?” 

“Sometimes, Saru, you can be so cruel.” The words came out of Yata’s mouth on their own, completely unbidden and outside of his control. His tone sounded dead, and listening to himself, he realized that while he hadn’t meant to say it, in a way he had. Because who the fuck took a blind man to a fucking fireworks show? 

“Was it the fireworks? Did they remind you of- of before?” Saru hesitated, and Yata knew he must mean the days of the kings, perhaps even the days when they’d been in HOMRA together. Ah, so Saru thought he had been reminded of the happy times when everyone had still been alive. 

“That’s not it. I just- I guess I’m a little tired.” 

“I’ll- I’ll walk you home.” Saru sounded so broken there, that Yata felt like crying. Oh. He already was crying. When had that happened? Still, he had to reassure Saru. Even if he had taken Yata on a rather shitty choice of a date for a blind guy… 

Wait a second. Saru seemed genuinely upset that Yata was unhappy. And he’d thought that the fireworks bugged Yata because they reminded him of old times. What if… 

No. No way. 

But if Saru didn’t know he was blind… 

Should he ask and make sure, and if Saru didn’t know, he could come clean about it? But Saru was the one thing he could see. The one person who didn’t treat him like he’d become a porcelain doll, the one person who acted normal around him and who he, in turn, could be normal with. If he told Saru now, it might change all that. 

Saru was the one person he had a chance of hiding it from. Maybe it was wrong, but he wanted to hide it. Just for a while anyway. He could tell Saru later. But for now… 

“Let’s come again next year,” he said. “We could make it a tradition.” 

He was rewarded with Saru’s smile. It was still taut with worry, but it was there. Saru didn’t kiss him that night, which was kind of disappointing. But he was probably the one who had ruined things, so he could hardly complain. So he wished Saru a good night and went inside. Their next date would be better. He’d make sure it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to facepalm.


	5. Chapter 5

This time Saru waited a full week before calling, and Yata spent every day that passed growing more and more panicked that he had somehow managed to ruin things between them thanks to his little bout of… whatever had happened at the festival. It was kind of amazing. Two weeks ago he’d been convinced that he and Saru were enemies and would always be enemies and now he was… what? Halfway in love with Saru? Was it even that? Or was he just being dependent on Saru because he could actually see the guy? But it wasn’t like they weren’t close. Even with all the animosity between them, Yata couldn’t deny that there had always been something there. Something… special. Almost magnetic. Maybe not love exactly, but there was definitely some connection that could easily become love if pulled in the right direction. And Yata had certainly begun to think that was the direction they were going. But if he’d messed it all up… 

When Saru called, his manner was totally different. And as much as Yata had been annoyed by Saru’s way of going at his own pace and expecting him to follow along, him not doing that was a little alarming. 

“Yo,” Yata said when the call came through. 

“Hey, Misaki? I was wondering, do you have time tomorrow afternoon?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then would it be alright if we went out tomorrow?” 

“Sounds good.” 

“Would you like to see a movie? There’s one playing that I think you would like…” 

“Okay, sure. Come pick me up?” 

“Do you want me to?” 

“Saru, would I have asked if I didn’t?” 

“Alright, I’ll be there at one thirty.” 

“See you then, Saru.” 

“Yeah. Later, Misaki.” 

Was that weird? Oh yeah. So weird. Not at all like Saru. If Yata had been worried he’d messed things up before, now he was absolutely terrified. 

The following afternoon found Yata in the bar, about as twitchy as could be and extremely nervous. What if this was some sort of break-up date? What if he’d been wrong about them dating somehow? What if- 

“The time is one nineteen, PM,” his watch said as he once again compulsively pressed the button for the time. It continued on, telling him weather conditions, but he wasn’t listening. One nineteen. That meant that Saru was supposed to be coming in eleven minutes. So soon. And yet such a long time from now. What the hell was he supposed to do for eleven freaking minutes? 

He pressed the button again, only to be told it was one nineteen again. He moaned in frustration and dragged his hands across the top of his head, pulling his beanie off by accident. It fell and he bent over fumbling around to try and find it. He barely heard the bell above the door as he snagged it and straightened, bumping his head on the table as he did. 

“Ow!” he yelped, clapping his hands to his head and almost dropping the beanie a second time. He held onto it though. 

“And here I thought you were so hard-headed you had no sensation in your skull,” a voice said. Saru. Yata looked up to see Saru heading towards him, a smile on his face. 

“Saru! You’re… you’re early.” 

“And yet you’re already waiting. Are you that eager to see me, Misaki?” 

Yata felt a blush flowing through his skin. 

“Y-yeah. I wanted to see you.” 

Yata hadn’t known how much he needed the sight of Saru blushing in his life, but boy had he needed it. Saru looked away and pushed his glasses up a little, and Yata wanted to tease him more, but also wanted to just pull him close and kiss him. They’d only kissed once, and it had been far too short and he’d been so surprised and then last time he’d spent the whole date waiting for Saru to make the first move, but why couldn’t he be the one to start things? He was always careening recklessly ahead of everyone else, so why be hesitant now? 

Saru recovered, and Yata remembered the beanie in his hand. He quickly jammed it on his head without a care for whether or not it looked okay. He apparently managed to make some of his hair stand up though, since Saru snickered and then reached over and made some adjustments. Yata enjoyed the feel of his boyfriend’s hands on his head. 

Wait. 

Yes, they were dating- probably- but did that make them boyfriends? Or was this just some sort of casual go-on-a-few-dates-just-to-blow-off-steam-and-then-be-done-with-each-other deal? He wanted to ask about it, but… 

“There,” Saru said, lowering his hands and then offering his arm to Yata. “Shall we?” 

Yata took his hand and let him lead the way. They headed to the train station, and then took a train to the cinema. Once there, Saru went and bought popcorn and drinks, and then he led the way into one of the theaters, producing tickets he’d gotten in advance. He chose their seats and they sat down. Not long after they arrived, the previews began. It was somewhat comforting to Yata, knowing that with the movie playing the theater would darken and people would become almost as blind as he was. Sure he was missing out on whatever happened on the screen, but he could still listen to the dialogue and the background music, and he could still enjoy this. 

The movie Saru had chosen seemed to be about some sort of vendetta. Yata wished he could see it, since there seemed like there was a lot of action going on, and he always did like the action sequences. And then as the protagonist was just getting close to his goal, his childhood friend showed up and made the protagonist rethink everything he was doing. 

At about this point in the movie, Saru’s phone began to buzz. He leaned over and whispered in Yata’s ear that he had to take this call and would be back in a bit, and Yata nodded. Saru moved past him, and the movie continued. 

The childhood friend discovered the protagonist’s deeds and passionately begged him to stop, that all this wasn’t worth it. The protagonist argued that yes it was. The childhood friend declared their love, confessing to having had feelings since all those years before. 

Saru wasn’t back yet. 

The protagonist chose to continue his vendetta and the childhood friend was left desolate. But then, as the protagonist was about to finish things once and for all, he got a call that the childhood friend had been hit by a drunk driver and was in the hospital, and the protagonist gave a stirring monologue about how meaningless the bloodshed was, and how he would never find someone who meant as much to him as his childhood friend. 

Saru still had yet to return. He always finished his calls to Yata as if every second cost millions, yet it had been at least twenty minutes since he’d left to answer his phone. 

The protagonist went to the hospital and got news that his childhood friend would be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. The protagonist vowed to look after his friend from then on. The movie ended with them promising to get married. The credits rolled, and people began to leave, and Saru still wasn’t back. Not sure what else to do, Yata cautiously gathered the popcorn box and the drink cups and navigated haltingly to the end of the row of seats he was in. He eased out into the flow of people leaving the theater, allowing them to guide him towards the exit. A swishing sound and a thud alerted him to where the trash can must be, and he gratefully felt his way to it and threw out the trash. He shuffled his way out of the theater. 

Yata kept a hand on the wall, and when he felt himself exit the theater, he took two steps sideways and then sank to the floor against the wall. Up until now it had been easy. With everyone heading the same direction, he could just let them guide him. But now people would be heading for the exits, they would be heading for the toilets, they would be heading for other theaters, and he had no idea which way to go. What was he supposed to do? And where had Saru gone? 

Panic set in, and Yata hugged himself, trying not to shake. He was scared. He was alone, in unfamiliar territory, and he couldn’t see anything. He hadn’t been alone like this since he’d gone blind. At most, he’d be alone in a room, but with someone from HOMRA just a yell away. But there was no one here that he knew, no one he could ask for help. 

He had no idea how long he sat there. He heard people whispering about him, and knew that he should call someone, but he wasn’t even sure which theater they’d gone to. He should have paid more attention. If only he’d listened to the stop announcement as they got off the train… 

“Hey loser, what are you doing there?” 

There was only one person who had a voice that got on Yata’s nerves that quickly. 

“Beat it, brat.” 

“Anna would get mad at me if she found out I saw you acting all pathetic and did nothing.” 

“I mean it Sukuna! I don’t have time to deal with you and your bullshit.” 

“But you have time to sit by a wall looking like you’re gonna cry?” 

There was just no winning with this kid. 

Sukuna heaved a sigh, then spoke up again. 

“Would you feel better if I called Anna to come meet us?” 

“You don’t need to. I’ll call someone. I just… I’m a little lost right now.” 

“What happened?” 

“It’s… I’d rather not tell you. You’ll laugh.” 

“I promise not to laugh. I don’t like you, but I don’t really like anyone when I first get to know them, so I won’t start to like you unless I get to know you. And I think the people who are important to Anna are probably worth getting to know, and, uh…” 

“I hate your guts, personally. But I know Anna can make her own decisions. If she wants to be friends with you, good for you. But I still won’t like some annoying green.” 

“Well this annoying green is about to help you out so shut up and stand up.” 

Yata obeyed, even though it rubbed him the wrong way to listen to anything this brat told him to do. He wasn’t about to forgive this particular JUNGLE member. After all, this kid had tried to kill Saru that time. 

Sukuna grabbed Yata’s sleeve and tugged, taking him out of the low hum of air conditioning and soft chatter and into the loud roaring of traffic. They walked this way and that, until Sukuna announced that they’d arrived. 

“We can talk here,” the younger boy said. “It’s one of my private places. You can’t see it, but we’re on top of a building that overlooks the sea and has a view of the island school.” 

“I heard Weissman is over there,” Yata said, trying to avoid the topic he knew was coming. 

“Yeah, he’s a teacher now. I wanna go over there since I heard the black dog is with him, but Anna would get mad at me, and I have gotten a little weaker since that thing with the slates.” 

“We all have.” 

“Maybe. But most of us haven’t gone blind. What’s with that anyway?” 

“Like I know.” 

“So what happened that you were lost and alone like that?” 

“I guess I got ditched?” Yata tried to laugh, to make it seem funny, to make it seem like he wasn’t really hurting over such a thought, but it didn’t really succeed. 

“Who would ditch a blind guy?” 

“He- he had a phone call…” 

“Like that’s an excuse. Who was it?” 

“Saru.” 

“And to think you stopped me from killing that jerk. He sure knows how to be grateful, doesn’t he?” 

“He doesn’t know I’m blind.” 

“Haaa? How does he not know?” 

“I’m not sure, but it’s easier to hide it with him since even though I can’t see anything else, I can see him. And also we’re dating, so holding hands is…” 

“You’re dating? About time. Anna didn’t think it would happen but you two are always together and you were just as upset as the blues when he left them so I kinda thought you were together even before.” 

“Well anyway, he doesn’t know about me being blind, and he had a call and…” 

“And so he ditched you and left you alone.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Call him.” 

“Sukuna, I just need to get home. I can call someone from HOMRA to come get me.” 

“No can do. It has to be that guy. He needs to learn his lesson.” 

“But-!” 

The argument was settled for them when Yata’s watch began to announce a call from Saru. Yata opened his mouth, but before he could figure out whether he wanted to accept or reject the call, an elbow knocked the wind out of him, a hand grabbed his wrist, and the call was picked up.


	6. Chapter 6

Fushimi should have taken a cab. He would have, if he’d realized it would take so long, but he didn’t since he’d thought it would be a simple matter. Just in and out. Quick. 

He was supposed to have the day off. He’d gone through the proper procedures to request it off and all. Munakata himself had signed off on the paperwork. There should have been no reason for him to have to come in today. 

But apparently the copy machine had broken down and he was the only one who could possibly fix it. Most likely it was just jammed. That was an easy fix. So he went and left Misaki since there was still at least half an hour left of the movie, and surely he could get to SCEPTRE 4, fix the copier, and get back in that time. 

And so he’d taken the train. He’d taken the train and arrived at SCEPTRE 4 to find that the copy machine was not jammed, it really was broken, and everyone was “far too busy” to call for a repairman, but one had to be contacted today because they “really need that copier”, so he had to do it himself. And then since he was there, couldn’t he look over this report “real quick” and how did one use the labelmaker again, and finally he got out of there and got on the train and looked at his watch and realized the movie was over by now. Definitely over. Shit. 

He ran from the station to the theater, not caring at the stares he drew. Let them think what they wanted. He was supposed to be on a date with Misaki, and right now he was being the shittiest date ever. After all the effort he’d put into trying to make this work better this time. 

Ever since the disaster at the festival, Fushimi had been doing what he did best: research. He looked up how to be a good boyfriend, and one thing that had come up with some regularity was that a good boyfriend was a gentleman. He held doors, considered his partner’s opinions, pushed in chairs. It was annoying, and not at all Fushimi’s thing, but if that was what it took to keep Misaki from crying again, then he sure as hell was going to try his best. 

And now he had all but abandoned his date. So much for being a goddamn gentleman. 

At the cinema, he made his way back to the theater the movie had been in, and found that it had already been cleaned and a new film was being shown inside. Misaki was nowhere to be seen. Had he somehow stayed for the next showing, or had he left? Only one way to find out, and that was to call. 

He pulled out his phone and made the call, listening to the tone beep in his ear. Once, twice, damnit, how long did it take to answer a phone that was on your freaking wrist? 

The call picked up, and Fushimi almost sighed with relief. 

“Misaki, did you go home already?” was the first thing that came out of his mouth. Ugh. No. That was not the right thing to be saying at all. It would be the right thing, in about a minute, but he ought to apologize first, explain the circumstances, let Misaki know he was not a total ass- 

“Hi Traitor-san. You should come meet us below the bridge to Ashinaka High School. See you there.” The call was ended, but Fushimi couldn’t speak right now anyway. He knew that voice. Sukuna. The J-rank from the green clan, the one who had almost killed him until Misaki came to the rescue. Misaki had really been so sexy that day... 

But that Sukuna had just answered Misaki’s phone. And if Sukuna was answering Misaki’s phone, what had happened to Misaki? 

Once again Fushimi was running. He shoved past a few people in his hurry, and heard them scream or yell profanities at him, but it didn’t matter. His boyfriend was in danger, and he needed to go save him. Just like Misaki had saved him; that time, and many others that Misaki didn’t even know about. In fact, knowing Misaki had saved Fushimi almost every day since they’d met. This world was a bland and boring place. Misaki was the one person who gave it some light. Fushimi needed that light. 

Fushimi reached the bridge in record time. Sukuna was there, sitting on a railing with one knee up and his arms wrapped around it. And next to him, maybe five feet away, was Misaki. He was leaning against the same railing, arms crossed and looking irritable. He didn’t seem to be hurt but that didn’t mean he was safe. 

His knives were in his hand before he even thought about getting them out. He clenched the handles just slightly, taking a deep breath to try and steady himself for the fight. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions take him against this opponent. 

Before Fushimi could do anything more though, Misaki was walking towards him. Fushimi reluctantly put the knives away, since Misaki happened to take a path that obstructed his view of Sukuna. The little shit was still sitting on the railing, unperturbed. Fushimi hated that brat. 

“He’s not our enemy, Saru,” Misaki said as he approached. 

“That doesn’t mean he’s someone you can trust,” Fushimi retorted. 

“Whatever, let’s just go.” Misaki reached for Fushimi’s arm. 

“Not so fast,” Sukuna called, jumping off the rail and jogging up to them. 

“Oy, brat, just drop it,” Misaki said, a warning tone in his voice. 

“Sorry, can’t. I already texted Anna about this and she said to make sure I let this guy know what an asshole he is.” 

“Anna doesn’t swear.” 

“I paraphrased.” 

“Look, Misaki, I’m sorry about earlier,” Fushimi interjected. “I had to go into work for-” 

“You had to go into work so you ditched your date without even saying anything,” Sukuna said, “which is a dick move to begin with, but it is especially so in this case since your date is fucking blind, you fucktard!” 

“Sukuna!” Misaki snapped, glaring at the younger boy. Or rather, glaring in his direction, since now that Fushimi looked closely, behind those sunglasses Misaki’s eyes weren’t quite looking at Sukuna. 

It made sense. That weirdness he’d started to notice at the festival. The sudden fashion sense that had him wearing sunglasses all the time. His willingness to let Fushimi lead him around. How had Fushimi not noticed? 

Except then as the silence stretched out, Misaki looked nervously at him, and Misaki was definitely looking at him. His eyes were focused, his gaze was steady, there was nothing blind about the way Misaki was looking at Fushimi right then. 

“If you’re blind, how come you can look at me so clearly?” 

“That’s, uh…” Misaki blushed and rubbed his neck with one hand, lowering his gaze. Finally, he looked back and said “I can’t see anything, anything at all, except one thing. You.” 

“Come again?” 

“Like, everything is just pitch black, you know? The doctors… they all said that it’s weird, since it was just so sudden and so complete, like I don’t even register any light at all, but despite that, I still see you like normal. I can tell you what you’re wearing right now, and I know that you had your knives ready to throw at Sukuna the moment you saw him, though I couldn’t see the knives themselves, only that you were holding something and since I know you, I know that it had to be your knives. It’s… I don’t really get it, and it doesn’t make sense, but that’s how it is, okay?” 

“But shouldn’t you get one of those walking sticks?” 

“I have one. One of the doctors insisted I get one, but I don’t like to use it. It’s embarrassing.” 

“Embarrassing? You can’t fucking see shit, and yet you’re worried about being embarrassed because you have a walking stick? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Misaki.” 

“Well it’s not like I go anywhere alone!” 

“You were alone today!" The words tore themselves from Fushimi's throat in a scream. "And yes, that’s my fault, I thought I would be back sooner than that, but I wouldn’t have left you alone like that if I’d known you were fucking blind! Or I would have told you a place to meet me! Goddamnit, Misaki, why the fuck didn’t you tell me!” 

“I thought you knew, damn it! I thought you fucking knew! I thought for sure Awashima would have told the whole fucking blue clan, and that you’d all be laughing at me! That time at the park? I thought you called me out for a fight because you knew I was blind and wanted an easy win! And then you instead took me on a fucking date, and you fucking kissed me, and pardon me if I was a little confused and overwhelmed by it all and by the realization that I wanted more of that! And even with the festival, I wondered if you were just making fun of me, until you thought the fireworks reminded me of Totsuka-san and Mikoto-san! That’s when I thought you might not know!” 

“So why didn’t you say something then, asshole!?” 

“Because I didn’t want to be treated like some blind guy, alright! I didn’t want you to go and be like everyone else, constantly acting like I’m helpless and about to break! Yes, there are things I can’t do on my own now, but I can still take care of myself, and I’m learning! I’m learning how to deal with this, and I’ll keep learning, but being treated like I’m fragile isn’t going to help, and you’re the one person I could count on not to do that!” 

Oh shit. Misaki was crying again. That was two dates in a row now where he’d made his boyfriend cry. 

“Misaki…” Misaki wiped at his face, trying to stem the flow of tears, and when that failed, he stepped forward and hid his face against Fushimi’s chest. The sunglasses dug in uncomfortably, and Fushimi wished Misaki had thought to take them off first, but he let the matter lie. His shirt quickly became wet as Misaki’s tears soaked into the fabric, but Fushimi didn’t complain because it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve a bit of discomfort right now. He wrapped his arms around Misaki and hugged him close. This precious boy that he’d loved for so long. This precious boy that he’d really let down. 

* * *

They didn’t talk as Saru took Yata back to HOMRA. What was there to say? Yata just kept messing everything up. Saru would probably be better off without him, probably didn’t even want him anymore now that he knew that Yata was blind and useless. It was possible to love someone who was blind, certainly, but when that someone was Yata Misaki, malcontent and professional screw-up, then who would ever bother? Saru would definitely move on now. He’d probably go for one of those pretty boys in the blue clan, maybe even that king of theirs who ran that little harem. Yata didn’t want that, but how could he possibly stand in the way? 

When they got to HOMRA, Saru turned to leave without saying anything, and Yata couldn’t bear it anymore. 

“Saru, c-can I see you again? Please?” Ugh, he sounded so pitiful. Whatever. If being pitiful would keep Saru from breaking up with him, then that’s what he’d do. “I promise I won’t ruin things next time.” 

Saru stopped and looked down at the ground. 

“Isn’t that supposed to be my line?” he asked. He turned back to Yata, a bitter smile on his face. “I’ve made you cry twice now, Misaki. I’m the one who keeps messing up, not you.” 

“But I didn’t tell you that-” 

“It doesn’t matter, Misaki! I’ve hurt you. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t know things or that I didn’t mean to, because I wanted you to be happy with me, and yet I keep making you cry, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to rectify this situation but I have to try because that’s how much you mean to me! How much you’ve always meant to me. I love you, Misaki. And I want to make you feel the same way about me.” 

“I already do.” 

“No you don’t.” 

“You asshole, listen to what I’m saying, will ya? I- Do you know how much it hurt that you never called? After that thing with the slates? I thought maybe we’d hang out at least, but you didn’t say a goddamn thing, didn’t even stop by once, and damnit! It hurt! And I get it now. It hurt because I’ve been falling in love with you, bit by bit since we met. And that’s why it hurt when you betrayed us too. It wasn’t even that you were leaving the clan, because while I didn’t like that you were doing that I might have gotten over it if it was someone else, but it wasn’t someone else, it was you, and I didn’t know what I was gonna do without you, and why do you keep fucking me up inside all the time?” 

“Fuck. You’re crying again.” Saru looked panicked. 

“Shit. You’re right. I can’t go in like this.” Truer words were seldom spoken. If Yata went in with tears all over his face and snot dripping from his nose, and someone saw it, his clansmen would not stop until the person responsible was beaten into the ground. Preferably six feet into the ground. And he kinda liked Saru alive, if it was all the same. 

“Take me somewhere. Anywhere, I don’t care.” 

Saru closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. 

“You really shouldn’t say things like that, Misaki. But, um, why don’t we go to the park?” 

Yata choked on a smile at Saru’s brief moment of awkwardness. Saru was always so collected, so hearing the word “um” come from his mouth was as out of character as it would be if Kusanagi deliberately damaged his precious bar or if Anna said she hated the color red. It was the kind of thing you would think would never happen. 

Saru took his hand and led the way to the park, not looking at him once as they walked but squeezing Yata’s hand every so often as if to try and reassure him. Once at the park, Saru guided him to a bench and they sat down, and Saru pulled him in for yet another hug. It was comforting, and made him feel safe. He started to nuzzle closer, but then was reminded of the stupid sunglasses on his face. He’d forgotten about them earlier too, and they’d gotten a little painful the way they’d dug into his face as he cried against Saru then, so he reached up and took them off. It took all his self control not to just chuck the damn things away. 

With the sunglasses safely discarded on the bench beside him, he pressed close to Saru, hoping to convey his feelings with actions since words just seemed to lead to arguments with them. Then again, so did actions. They really weren’t good at expressing themselves to each other. But he wanted to get better, and so this was how he would try. 

One of Saru’s hands worked its way under his beanie and tangled in his hair as a response. He sighed happily. Moments like this were worth all the effort it took to communicate. 

“I’m sorry, Misaki,” Saru said suddenly, quietly. “I- Before, you always seemed to give your attention to everyone equally, and I wanted to have all your focus be on me, and so I thought maybe if I did things that deliberately hurt you, you would at least pay attention to me to hate me. And I guess maybe I got too used to hurting you, since I can’t seem to stop. I’ve messed everything up between us, always.” 

“Saru, I don’t care how many times you break my heart, as long as you are there to pick up the pieces and put them back together for me. I trust you to do that.” 

“I’d rather be trusted not to break your heart in the first place.” 

“We’ll get there. I’m sure of it.” 

Yata didn’t know how long they stayed like that. It didn’t really matter. The only indication he had that time had passed was a slowly increasing feeling of hunger growing in his stomach. He received confirmation that it was getting late when Saru commented that it was getting dark. Yata sighed. He didn’t want to go home yet. Maybe it was the sigh giving his thoughts away, but Saru’s next words made it seem as if he’d read Yata’s mind. 

“Would you like to go get dinner? Or I could make you something at my place.” 

Damn Saru could be smooth. Just casually throwing that out there like that. 

“I’d like that,” Yata replied. Even if Saru was the lousiest cook in the world, whatever he made would certainly be delicious. 

“It’d just be dinner. No expectations.” 

“Okay. I hope your cooking’s gotten better.” 

“It’s better than yours at least. Even when you can see you burn everything.” 

Saru pushed himself away and stood, offering a hand. Yata took it, wondering if right now there was a sunset silhouetting the other man, unseen by either of them. It would be a shame if there was, because it probably looked stunning. 

Saru ended up making him croquettes. They were pretty good, even without Yata’s bias affecting his taste buds. A little chunky, but it didn’t affect the flavor enough to be an issue. 

It made Yata realize what a learning experience dating Saru was. He’d learned that Saru was a good cook. That he liked to hug from behind. That he panicked a bit at the sight of tears, or at least at the sight of Yata’s tears. And he hoped to learn a lot more about Saru as they went on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eureka!


	7. Chapter 7

After dinner they ended up on the couch, supposedly to watch TV but it wouldn’t take much arm twisting to make Fushimi admit that he wasn’t paying attention to the television at all and was just enjoying the cuddling. Misaki drifted off before too long, and it was like watching thousands of those cat videos: positively adorable. Fushimi had to pull off his sunglasses for him. It was really tempting to just snap them in half and throw them away, but he resisted. He ended up turning off the TV and taking off his own glasses as well, since they were hurting his nose as they tended to do after long periods of being worn. As he settled back down, Misaki snuggled closer, still asleep. Fushimi closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of Misaki at his side… 

“Incoming call: Kusanagi-san. Incoming call: Kusanagi-san. Incoming call: Ku-” 

The mechanical voice of Misaki’s phone startled Fushimi awake. 

“Whaaaaaa?” Misaki grumbled sleepily as he answered it. 

“Yata-chan? Are you alright?” There was worry in Kusanagi’s voice as it came through the speaker on Misaki’s watch. 

“M’fine. Why?” 

“Why?” Kusanagi let out a groan. “Yata-chan, why do you do this to me? I’ve been worried sick over here you know. It’s after midnight. You should come home before I lock up for the night.” 

Fushimi peered blearily around, wondering when he’d dozed off as well, and how the two of them had napped for so long. It was certainly dark in his apartment now, and that combined with his glasses being off made it nearly impossible to see anything. He thought about staying like this, trying to navigate his apartment in the dark without his glasses, so that maybe he’d understand just a bit what Misaki was going through. But it would only make things unnecessarily difficult. 

Misaki, meanwhile, sat up abruptly, making Fushimi gasp with the sudden withdrawal of his body heat. 

“A-after midnight? When did it get so late? I’m sorry, Kusanagi-san, I’ll come back right away.” 

“Just let me know if you’re going to be out late, Yata-chan. We’d all hate for something to happen to you.” 

“Yeah yeah.” 

“Should I send someone to go get you?” 

“Nah, Saru can bring me back.” 

“S- are you with Fushimi?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Since when do you two hang out so late?” 

“Oh, um, right, I guess I haven’t told you. We’re dating.” 

There was a long silence, and Fushimi could just picture Kusanagi right then, eyes wide, a cigarette dangling loosely in his mouth, about to fall out since Kusanagi’s jaw would have gone slack with shock. 

“Da- wha- ho- when-” A rush of air indicated that Kusanagi must have sighed. “Yata-chaaan, you’ve got to tell people things like this. I mean, Fushimi? I don’t believe- no, actually, I do believe it. You always were very responsive to him, and while it was usually negative, sometimes that can mean there’s feelings there that are just strongly repressed. Anyway, just hurry up and get back here. I’m gonna be closing soon.” 

“Alright, on our way.” Yata ended the call and let out a large yawn. “Sorry, Saru, looks like I need to go,” he murmured sleepily. 

“It’s fine. Sometimes at work we have to help lost children find their way home, so I’m used to it.” 

“If I’m a child, then you’re a pedophile, you know that right?” 

“What’s this, did you learn a new word recently Misaki?” 

Misaki cuffed him lightly rather than respond, and Fushimi laughed. Misaki smiled back wryly. 

“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you without your glasses before,” Misaki told him. 

“How do I look? Weird?” 

“No, just different. Actually, not even different, really. Like you look the same, it’s just because there’s something missing it takes a moment to realize that you look the same.” 

“Well, I should probably put my glasses back on, and you should put yours on, and we should get moving,” Fushimi said. He grabbed his own glasses first, then the stupid sunglasses that he didn’t want to put on Misaki. As he placed the latter on Misaki’s face, he leaned forward and kissed the other boy, slow and soft. He would’ve like to keep going, but they didn’t exactly have the time at the moment. 

“We’ll have to do more of that next time,” Misaki whispered after Fushimi pulled away. Fushimi smiled, glad that there would be a next time. After all the ways he’d messed up, he really didn’t deserve it. 

They get up off the couch and Fushimi led Misaki to the door, and helped him find his shoes. Once they’d gotten their shoes on and Fushimi had grabbed a jacket, they headed out. Misaki shivered the whole way back to HOMRA, but every time Fushimi offered his jacket Misaki refused to take it. Fushimi ended up just holding the jacket, because he would’ve felt guilty seeing his boyfriend shiver alone, and it’s a little difficult to hug someone for warmth and walk at the same time. 

Kusanagi was waiting at the door when they arrived at HOMRA. Fushimi followed Misaki in, wanting to provide support in case Kusanagi decided to yell at Misaki for being out so late. It didn’t seem likely, but if Kusanagi did get angry, it might happen. 

Inside, Awashima was at the bar, sipping some cocktail or other. It had a couple of scoops of ango in it, and Fushimi made a face. That woman and her ango obsession. Ew. 

Misaki was oblivious to all this. When Kusanagi said nothing, Yata called out, “Kusanagi-san, I’m back,” not knowing he was addressing someone only a couple feet away. Yata then turned around and gave Fushimi a quick kiss, whispering, “Good night, Saru,” then headed off, navigating through the bar with the ease of practice and familiarity. 

Fushimi watched him go, waiting for the inevitable “meet the parents” type prying conversation that was coming. It didn’t take long. 

“So. You’re dating Yata-chan,” Kusanagi began. 

“Yes.” 

“How long?” 

“Twelve days.” 

Kusanagi arched an eyebrow. 

“Moving a little fast, aren’t you?” 

“We didn’t do anything. I invited him over for dinner, and we ended up falling asleep watching TV afterwards.” 

“Sounds like what you’d say if you did do something.” 

“If we had done anything, I’d be telling you how great it was. But I care enough about Misaki to do things properly, or to at least try to. Inviting him over for dinner wasn’t even planned. That was just to make up for having to bail on him for a while.” 

“You left him alone? How’s he supposed to-” 

“When I left him, I wasn’t aware that he was blind. He only told me after.” 

“Wait, you didn’t know?” Kusanagi turned to Awashima. “You really didn’t tell anyone?” 

“I saw no need to. It’s hardly the business of anyone in SCEPTRE 4, and it does seem like something you might not want to be known.” 

“How did you even know in the first place?” Fushimi asked her accusingly. She was right, it was not business of anyone in SCEPTRE 4. No one except him, since he was dating Misaki. So where did she figure into all this. 

“I took him to a couple of doctors’ appointments when he first went blind.” 

Oh. Well that explained a lot. But Fushimi still didn’t like it. He clicked his tongue in distaste. 

“In the future, I better not hear about you leaving him on his own again,” Kusanagi said. 

“Spare me the threats, he’s not some high school girl and you’re not his dad and I want the best for him, same as you. And in that vein of conversation, would you mind telling me everything you know about his blindness? You can send it to me via email tomorrow if you’d rather go to bed.” 

“Not much to tell. One morning he was making a lot of noise getting up, I went to see what it was, he told me he couldn’t see anything at all. He certainly was pretty clumsy in everything he did, so I believed him. He went to four different doctors who all insisted that his blindness was impossible since there was nothing wrong with his eyes or brain to cause it, but they admitted that his eyes were unresponsive to any kind of light and so it did seem that he was truly blind. So far we have no idea what caused it.” 

“Then I’m assuming you have no clues as to what might cure it,” Fushimi grumbled, half to himself. “What was the exact date he went blind?” 

“June 14.” 

Two weeks before their first date. 

“And there was nothing significant that happened right before then?” 

“Not that we’ve discovered.” 

“I see.” 

“Fushimi, why do you want to know all this? You said something about curing him a moment ago, are you planning to try and find a cure?” 

“Of course I am. He’s my boyfriend. Me wanting to help him should be a given.” 

“But what if there isn’t a cure?” 

“There will be. There has to be. Even if I have to piece together every last fragment of the Dresden Slates on my own to reform them and make myself a king, I will find a way.” 

“Perhaps that’s an idea,” Awashima said, interrupting them. “Have you mentioned Yata-kun’s predicament to Weissman at all?” 

“Weissman?” Kusanagi and Fushimi asked as one. 

“Why would we mention it to him?” Kusanagi asked, casting a glare at Fushimi, who ignored it. “This isn’t exactly his area of expertise.” 

“But isn’t it?” Awashima countered. “Weissman deals with strange phenomena. This fits that description. The worst he can do is tell you he has no idea, right?” 

“No, the worst he can do is send us on a wild goose chase,” Fushimi countered. “Or come up with another plan that won’t work, like his plan to keep JUNGLE from obtaining the slates that time.” 

“Fushimi,” Awashima warned. Fushimi clicked his tongue in irritation. 

“Alright, I’ll call Weissman tomorrow,” Kusanagi said. “I’ll let you know what he says.” 

“By you, you mean…?” Fushimi asked pointedly. He didn’t want there to be any chance of him being left out of the loop on things. Maybe they could find a way to help Misaki on their own. But research was his specialty, and so they could find the answers much faster with his help. 

“I mean both of you,” Kusanagi said tiredly. “Now it is closing time, and I would like to get some sleep. You two should as well. SCEPTRE 4 is rather busy, is it not?” 

“It is,” Awashima answered, getting to her feet. “Come, Fushimi.” 

Fushimi did not appreciate being ordered about like a dog. But he did follow, since his business there was done. Time to go home.


	8. Chapter 8

Awashima caught Fushimi as he returned from his lunch break to inform him that Weissman would be at HOMRA that evening. He spent the rest of the day impatiently waiting for the moment he could leave, willing time to move faster and praying that Weissman wouldn’t leave before he could talk to him. When he did get off work, he ran most of the way to the bar. 

Despite his rush, Awashima still managed to somehow beat him there, even though she’d still been sorting paperwork when he’d left. She had even changed clothes, whereas Fushimi was still in his uniform. He didn’t understand how that was even possible, but it didn’t matter because as he stood panting just inside the doorway, the bell sounded as someone opened the door behind him and he moved aside to let Weissman himself enter, flanked as always by his two subordinates. Kuroh was arguing with Neko about something, and Weissman was laughing gently at the two of them as always, and Fushimi felt sorry for Kuroh being stuck with two such idiots. Or he might have felt sorry if he didn’t know Kuroh was with them willingly for whatever reason. 

Kusanagi, who had been strangely absent from the room, entered, coming from the door that Fushimi knew led to the rooms above the bar where Misaki and Kusanagi himself both lived. 

“Good evening,” Weissman greeted. 

“Yo,” Kusanagi said, waving a hand. 

“Greetings,” Awashima said, inclining her head slightly. 

Fushimi said nothing, only moved to one of the tables and took a seat. Weissman, Kuroh, and Neko all settled themselves as well. 

“Alright, what was it you wanted to talk about?” Weissman said once he was settled, hands folded in his lap and his feet crossed at the ankles, smiling that ever-present smile of his. 

“About Yata-chan,” Kusanagi explained. “Roughly a month ago he went blind with no explanation.” 

“Shouldn’t we wait for him to join us if we’re going to be discussing him?” Kuroh asked. 

“He said he’d rather not come down,” Kusanagi said. “He said there’s nothing to discuss since he’s already blind.” 

“An understandable stance,” Weissman said. “Tell me, when you say he went blind with no explanation, what exactly do you mean?” 

“He woke up one morning unable to see anything. He didn’t get hurt in any way, and doctors could find no cause.” 

“Interesting.” 

“What makes you think Shiro would know anything?” Kuroh demanded. 

“Because the doctors said that Yata-chan’s condition was impossible, and Dr. Weissman here specializes in the impossible,” Kusanagi said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Indeed,” Weissman agreed. “I already have a few theories, though it’ll be hard to narrow it down further.” 

“Would it help you to know there is one thing he can see?” Fushimi heard himself ask. He didn’t like sharing that Misaki could see him. It felt private somehow, like a special secret between them. But if it could help Misaki, he really out to mention it. 

“Oh?” Awashima said, her eyebrows jumping up sharply. Kusanagi was looking at him suspiciously. All eyes were on him, and Fushimi swallowed nervously as Weissman asked 

“Really? What is it?” 

“Me,” Fushimi said quietly. “Misaki can see me.” 

“How come you haven’t mentioned this sooner?” Kusanagi accused. 

Fushimi thought of retorting with a “Why don’t you ask Misaki that?” except to say such a thing would be throwing Misaki under the bus, and he would never do that to Misaki. No matter the trouble, he’ll gladly take the blame for Misaki. 

“Well,” Weissman said slowly, “that would certainly narrow things down.” He paused, pulling out a pocket watch and opening it briefly before closing it, putting it away again, and continuing. “In fact, there’s only one explanation I can think of for such an occurrence.” 

“Which is?” Fushimi asked eagerly. 

“A wish.” 

“A wish?” Fushimi’s voice was not the only one asking. Awashima and Kusanagi had also spoken up to share their confusion. 

“Yes. A wish. There are a few possibilities, but given the circumstances, I’d say it is likely a lingering effect of the Slates, activated by proximity to a Strain.” 

“But I thought everyone lost all powers with the destruction of the Slates,” Kusanagi said, frowning. Awashima nods in agreement. 

“Everyone who received their powers from the Slates, yes,” Weissman confirmed. “But the Slates were not the only such source of power in the world. They were merely the strongest active one. There are many objects that can grant powers, but often to only one person at a time, whereas the Slates were able to create Kings. So, most likely, a Strain who had the power of another such object came close to the Slates, briefly imbibing them with the Strain’s power.” 

“So someone wished for Yata-kun to go blind?” Awashima asked, frowning as she tried to puzzle out this new information. 

“Specifically, they wished for him to go blind but see Fushimi,” Kusanagi said. 

“But that’s ridiculous,” Fushimi argued. “Why would anyone wish for Misaki to see only m-” Fushimi cut off before finishing. That phrasing was all too familiar. He could feel the color draining from his face. 

“It was me, wasn’t it?” he asked, voice shaking. 

“Most likely,” Weissman said, nodding. There was sympathy in his eyes. 

“Fushimi!” Awashima gasped, scandalized. Kusanagi’s knuckles cracked. 

“It is unlikely that such effects as being able to see one person would be produced unless that person was the one who wished it,” Weissman said. “The only other possibility is that Yata-kun himself wished it, perhaps wishing for a way to know who his soulmate was or some such. But more likely, you wished for his attention. Even something like ‘I wish he’d look at me’ could be enough. That’s the problem with wishes: they leave no room for being abstract. Wishes are only granted literally, or as close to literally as possible. They cannot affect feelings, and so the wish instead affected Yata-kun’s sight.” 

“So it wasn’t anything malicious?” Awashima asked, reaching over to lay a hand on Kusanagi’s hand to keep him from attacking her subordinate. Fushimi wasn’t sure she shouldn’t just let Kusanagi do his worst. He probably deserved it. 

“Most likely, no, though only Fushimi-lun is the one who can answer that,” Weissman replied. Everyone looked to Fushimi expectantly, but he didn’t answer them. Instead, after a long moment of silence, he asked, “How am I going to tell him?” 

“Tell who?” Kuroh asked. 

“Misaki. How am I going to tell him that it’s my fault he can’t see?” 

“Don’t,” Kusanagi sighed, sounding tired. “Yata-chan was pretty depressed over this, but about the time you said the two of you started dating, he actually started to cheer up. Most likely, it’s because of you, and if you tell him then you’ll ruin that for him and he’ll go back to being depressed. Don’t take away the one thing that makes him feel good anymore.” 

“But he deserves to know!” Fushimi slammed a fist down on the table he was at, angry. “Misaki has more right to know what happened to him than anyone else! How can I not tell him?” 

“If you tell him you’ll break his heart, damnit!” Kusanagi shouted back. His eyes were flashing, and if he still had the powers of the red clan, then Fushimi had no doubt his clothes would be on fire from Kusanagi’s wrath. Everyone went silent at the sight of Kusanagi’s sudden anger. 

“So you expect me to lie to him?” Fushimi asked, his voice back to a normal volume but shaking with barely contained rage. 

“Not telling him is not the same as lying,” Kusanagi spat. 

“It is if he asks me about it! He knows we’re having this discussion right now, so if he asks me, what am I supposed to say? I am not lying to my boyfriend, Kusanagi!” 

“And you’re not telling him what we just figured out, either!” 

“Both of you, shut up!” Awashima snapped. “You’re getting nowhere with your arguing.” 

“He better not tell Yata-chan.” 

“Izumo, shut up!” 

“What about a cure?” Fushimi asked. “Is there any way to undo this?” 

“If you could find the Strain responsible, they could undo it, but you’d have to convince them,” Weissman said. “All I can tell you is that most likely, both you and the Strain had to be within 200 meters of the Slate fragments at the same time.” 

“I can work with that. And how long would the wish take to go into effect?” 

“It would probably set in overnight.” 

So he needed to look for someone who came near the Slates on June 13th, and at a time when he’d been near them. Which was most of the day since on June 13th he’d accompanied Munakata to Mihashira Tower where they were collecting the fragments of the Slates and researching them. It would take some work to obtain security footage from the tower, but if he could get that, then maybe, just maybe, he’d be able to undo this mess. And if that didn’t work, then he’d find some other way.


	9. Chapter 9

Two days after the semi-disastrous third date and one day after everyone had had their little meeting, Saru came to visit Yata. The two of them ended up just sitting in Yata’s room above the bar and talking. Saru tried to keep it casual, but Yata could tell there was some sort of agenda, some reason Saru was there, and sure enough, after a slight lull in their chatter, Saru cleared his throat and tentatively broached the topic. 

“I was wondering if we could talk more about your…” he said, waving a hand rather than finish. 

“Blindness?” Yata offered. No point beating around the bush. 

“Condition,” Saru substituted. 

“My blind condition,” Yata countered, just to be contrary. He was rewarded with an eye roll. 

“Yes, that.” 

“What’s there to talk about? You know everything there is to know. I just woke up like this one day, and you’re the only thing I’ve seen since.” 

“Yes but, I guess that’s what I’m curious about. What you can see. To what extent does that apply? You said you can’t see anything I’m holding-” 

“Nope.” 

“-but you’ve also said that you can see what I am wearing. But what counts as being worn?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well if I wore a hat, would you see that?” 

“Like I know.” 

“Then can I borrow yours?” 

“Uh… sure?” 

“Thanks.” Saru reached over and tugged Yata’s beanie off his head. His hands moved towards his own head, and a moment later, Yata burst out laughing. 

“That doesn’t suit you at all,” he chortled. “If I could see, I’d take a picture!” 

Saru scowled and took off the beanie, shoving it back on Yata’s head. This only made Yata laugh harder, as Saru had some of the worst hat hair the world had ever seen. Saru reached up to fix his hair, but paused, a thoughtful expression on his face. 

“Now there’s an idea. Let’s see if you can see pictures of me.” 

“I don’t think I have any.” 

“So I’ll take one right now.” 

“Huh? Like a selfie? Are you serious?” 

“I am. Smile.” Before Yata could protest, Saru had wrapped one arm around him, and was holding the other arm out, his hand at a strange angle, probably holding a cell phone that Yata couldn’t see. His thumb twitched, and there was a sound like a camera shutter, and then he was lowering his arm, looking at his hand. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost in this picture,” Saru commented drily. “I’d suggest we try again, but somehow I doubt it would turn out any better. You always look better in person than in pictures.” 

“Hey! I-” 

“Your school ID.” 

“Th-that was-” 

“One eye was half shut while the other was completely closed, your mouth was open, your hair was a mess, and you looked like you were drunk. It barely even looked like you. Trust me, I remember that photo all too clearly.” 

“Shut up.” 

“So, can you see the picture?” Saru asked, holding out his hand. Yata only saw his hand though, so he shook his head. 

“We can try reflections next, but I suspect that you likely only see the actual me. Well, at least I got a new wallpaper out of this.” 

“Wallpaper?” 

“For my phone. That’s our first photo together as a couple, of course I’m saving it and making it the background for my screen.” 

“But you said I looked like I’ve seen a ghost!” 

“It’s cute.” 

“Don’t call me cute! It sounds so girly!” 

“You can be cute without being girly, Misaki. Get used to it.” 

“Saruuuu!” 

Saru escaped further arguing by leaning over and kissing him then. It was really unfair. 

* * *

Saru was kicked out after Kusanagi stopped by Yata’s room and found the two of them making out. So what if Saru’s hands had been up Yata’s shirt? It was a loose shirt; the fabric bunched up easily and exposed skin and so when his hands moved, it was inevitable that the fabric would fall back down over them. Besides, if Saru hadn’t been in his stupidly complicated SCEPTRE 4 uniform, Yata totally would have done the same. 

After Saru left, Yata was treated to a lecture from Kusanagi which boiled down to the suggestion that in the future the two of them at least remember to close the door. It was clear that Kusanagi did not approve of the relationship, but equally clear that it was out of concern for Yata’s wellbeing rather than homophobia or some other bullshit like that. Kusanagi could be such a worrywart. 

Then, just when Yata thought that maybe they were starting to move forward with their relationship, Saru disappeared. Maybe Yata was being clingy, but he’d kinda assumed they’d be talking more now, and that Saru stopping by after work might be more common. But after that brief make-out session in his room, there was nothing. No visits. No phone calls. Not even a stupid text for his phone to garble while reading it aloud. 

That was without a doubt, the worst thing about Saru: he was so hot and cold. He’d just vanish without warning and come back just as suddenly, and with no explanation. Yata supposed it was partly his fault, for not saying anything to Saru about it, but shouldn’t it be obvious that such behavior was hurtful? 

And then, on the fifth day since Saru’s last contact, Awashima showed up at HOMRA and asked to speak to Yata. 

“What do you want?” he asked once they were settled at a corner table with a couple cups of tea. 

“It’s about Fushimi-kun,” Awashima said. “I think you should go visit him.” 

“Great idea. Why don’t I drive there?” Yata said sarcastically. “Or maybe you’ve forgotten that I’m fucking blind? I’m still figuring out how to get around like this.” 

“Which is why I came to get you.” Even without sight, Yata is pretty sure Awashima is clenching her jaw to stay calm. It’s there in the overly patient tone of her voice. “Please. Fushimi’s been working on a side project after hours, and he’s overworking himself. Both Munakata and myself have tried to talk to him, but he won’t listen. But if it’s you, he’ll pay attention. And I’m sure he would like it if you stopped by. Over the past few weeks his mood keeps fluctuating; he’ll be increasingly irritable and then after a day off, presumably for a date with you, he comes back uncharacteristically cheerful, only to start becoming irritable again. If you just come with me-” 

“Do you know if he’s eaten already?” 

“Er… probably not.” 

“Then we’ll need to stop and get something along the way. Let me grab my wallet.” 

Once Yata had his wallet and his stupid walking stick, they headed off, stopping at a fast food restaurant to order some burgers. Awashima helped him pay, and then they finished their journey to the SCEPTRE 4 headquarters. Once inside, Awashima guided him through the building. Yata really wished he could see right then, since he’d always wondered what kind of place those snobs hung around in. He’d just have to keep on wondering though, since he was blind now. 

When they found Saru, he was sitting on something, a scowl on his face as he stared intently at something. 

“Fushimi-kun,” Awashima called out. 

“Not now,” Saru snapped, not even looking away from whatever had his attention. 

“You have a visitor.” 

“I said-” Saru cut off as he turned and saw Yata standing there as well. The lines of his face smoothed and a softness entered his eyes. “Misaki… What are you-” 

“I brought burgers,” Yata said, lifting the bag in his hand a little. 

Saru looked back at whatever he’d been staring at and sighed. He moved his hands, and Yata heard sounds like the clicking of a mouse. Yata felt Awashima move away, leaving them alone. After few more clicks, Fushimi turned back to him. 

“Alright. Let’s go. Where to, Misaki?” 

“Wherever’s fine.” 

Wherever ended up being back to Saru’s apartment. Yata thought this was probably a good thing, since Saru looked dog tired, practically dead on his feet. Yata tried to make conversation at first, but soon gave up when Saru was mostly unresponsive. Yata wanted to chalk it all up to Saru being exhausted, but Saru seemed troubled as well. He smiled when he looked at Yata, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, like he wasn’t completely happy to see his boyfriend. Perhaps going to visit him had been a mistake after all. 

After finishing his burger, Yata wondered if he should call someone to come get him, or stick around to make sure Saru actually got some sleep. From what Awashima had said, maybe the latter option was necessary. But the atmosphere between the two of them was so suffocating right then. Yata opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say, but Saru spoke up first. 

“Misaki, there’s something I need to tell you.” 

Yata’s mouth shut, and he swallowed- a difficult feat since his mouth was suddenly dry. He told himself to calm down, that he’d been worried before and things had turned out fine, even after that awful movie date things had still been okay, but what if when Saru had stopped by that time, he’d already been rethinking their relationship and was just trying to act normal until he figured things out? What if Saru had made out with him to try and test the strength of their attraction, and Yata had failed? What if- 

“I… That is… It’s my fault.” 

What? 

“What?” Yata asked aloud. 

“Your blindness. I-” 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“Yes it is, just listen.” 

“No, it’s not, and I won’t listen because I already listened to your meeting the other night. I heard what they said, and that wasn’t your fault.” Yata found it hard to keep his voice steady, but he tried his best. 

“If you heard what was said, then how could you think it’s not? I wished for this, Misaki. Maybe not this exactly, but it was my wish that made you go blind!” Saru’s voice bordered on pleading, as if he wanted Yata to be mad at him. Why was Saru like this? 

“No, it was the interpretation of your wish.” 

“But-” 

“No buts, Saru. I don’t want to fight with you right now.” Wouldn’t Saru just drop this already? 

“How can you be so calm about this?” 

“You really think I’m calm?” Yata clenched his fists, and his voice began to shake and rise despite his best efforts. “I’m actually kinda pissed off. Not because your wish made me blind, but because if you really wanted my attention that badly, then why didn’t you talk to me for six freaking months? Why do you still keep just leaving me, and then coming back when it’s convenient for you? You want my attention? You have it, dammit, but then you keep running away from it! Would it kill you to call? To give me some sign that you care? Because every time I think things are going well then you stop talking to me and I think that I must’ve messed up!” 

Saru gaped at him for a moment, before speaking softly, as if trying to calm him down. It was too late for that, damn it. Yata had tried to stay calm but stupid Saru was the one who kept pushing the issue. 

“Misaki, I told you before that I love you, and have loved you for years. It would take something pretty drastic to change that. You’re right, I shouldn’t leave you alone so much, but I’m trying to find a way to fix my mistake. If I can find the Strain that activated the Slates, then-” 

“So what, I’m not good enough for you if I can’t fucking see?” Yata shouted, bordering on hysteria. Not good. Sound the alarms because the ship was taking on water and could potentially sink. 

“What?” Saru gasped, anger lighting up his eyes as well. “No! How could you think that? I thought you’d be happier if you could see again! Kusanagi said that you’ve been depressed since you went blind, and so I want to help! Is it such a terrible thing for me to want you to be happy?” 

“Well maybe you weren’t listening closely enough, because he also said that you’re the one good thing in my life right now, and he was right, you are! So when you don’t talk to me for five days, that’s five days without a single good thing in them, and that’s on you! Thanks a lot, jackass!” 

This wasn’t good. Yata hadn’t wanted to get into a fight, and yet that was exactly what they were doing. He just kept spitting out poisonous comments, and it wasn’t going to help anything. He needed to go. Right then, and not a second later. He headed for the door, but Saru beat him there, catching him and wrapping him up in a hug. 

“Misaki, wait. Don’t go. Please.” 

“You’re tired, and I don’t want to fight.” And honestly, Yata was starting to feel tired to. The tension between them was just so draining. 

“Then we won’t fight. Just stay. Call Kusanagi and tell him you’re staying here. Please.” 

Yata shifted until he was facing Saru and returned the hug. They stayed there like that a while, taking comfort in the embrace of each other while Saru kept whispering over and over for him to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Errrrrrrrggg these idiots.  
> On a different note, does anyone actually look good in ID photos? I'm pretty sure the answer is no.


	10. Chapter 10

Misaki was definitely cutest in the mornings, when his hair was standing up every which way and he was struggling to keep his eyes open and contain his yawns. After Fushimi’s alarm went off, Misaki got up with him, even though it was early and Misaki didn’t have anywhere to be. 

They made breakfast together, at Misaki’s insistence. He boasted that he was good at making pancakes, but couldn’t manage on his own and needed help. It was enjoyable, being Misaki’s eyes as he cooked them breakfast. And not just because Misaki had latched onto him like an oversized koala, complaining that it was cold. 

Between the time it took for the pancakes to be made and the time it took to make sure Yata could find things in the apartment, Fushimi ended up being late for work. He didn’t mind though. His duties as third-in-command of SCEPTRE 4 could be so tedious, and he would never complain about a single second spent with Misaki. 

The day was slow-going. The one bright spot was when he went home during his lunch break, stopping to pick up some rice balls for the two of them. Unfortunately, since he was going to stay late at work, that meant that Misaki had to either spend all day alone or go back to HOMRA, and the latter option was chosen, so after they’d eaten Kamamoto came by to pick Misaki up. It made the afternoon extra bleak. 

Finally the end of the day rolled around and Fushimi was able to go back to his search. Thanks to Weissman’s influence, he’d been able to get the security footage from Mihashira Tower fairly easily, but that didn’t mean all problems were solved. He had to run background checks on every person within the footage who wasn’t a member of USAGI or SCEPTRE 4, and while there weren’t all that many people since Mihashira Tower wasn’t the kind of place many people came all that close to in their day-to-day activities, those checks could still take a while. He had to be thorough in order to eliminate any possibility that a person could be the Strain. 

But that day, after a week of searching, he saw it. By chance, he was looking at the camera that watched over the room where the remains of the Slates were being kept, and saw that around mid afternoon, the Slates had glowed very briefly. It occurred at a time when he and Munakata had been out of the room, discussing something with a member of USAGI, so no one would have been around to see it happen. Fushimi quickly began scanning the feeds from the other cameras at that time, and sure enough, someone had been walking near the tower. Not just that, but they had paused and looked up at the tower just after the Slates had glowed, as if they had sensed something. This had to be the Strain. 

And so the process of a background check began. Who was this person? Unknown. Where were they from? Unknown. What was their occupation? Unknown. Everything Fushimi tried to find on them was unknown. The good news was, he had confirmed that this was the Strain. The bad news was he had no way of tracking them down. He’d finally made a breakthrough, and it had led him nowhere. 

* * *

It was a severe setback, being unable to track the Strain. But Fushimi would find a way. For now, he would take a break, and relax a bit. He would plan a nice date for Misaki’s birthday in four days. Dinner at a nice restaurant was a given, but before that they ought to do something Misaki would find fun- maybe visit an amusement park, or go someplace Misaki could skateboard. 

He’d also have to get Misaki a present. Something special, since Misaki deserved it and also since Fushimi had been a less than stellar boyfriend and needed to make it up to Misaki. 

And so Fushimi went about making plans and going shopping, though he still made sure to stop by HOMRA and see Misaki each day. It was annoying, since the other red clansmen would tease them mercilessly and Sukuna would make fun of them if he was there doing homework with Anna, but Fushimi came to enjoy it a bit since Misaki would get embarrassed and turn so red that it was a wonder he didn’t combust, and Fushimi would be lying if he said he didn’t find this side of his boyfriend adorable. 

The day before Misaki’s birthday, Fushimi found himself wandering an outdoor market while doing patrols for work. It was killing multiple birds with one stone: he was being productive while avoiding some of the more irksome tasks that were expected of him, and shopping for a birthday present at the same time. He turned a corner and began scanning the stalls that were set up, and nearly did a double take. The fourth stall on the left side of this row was a shop for beads and marbles, and the vendor was the very Strain Fushimi was seeking. Not caring about appearances, he made a beeline for the stall. 

“Hi there, how can I help you?” the Strain asked. 

“I need you to undo a wish,” Fushimi said, getting straight to the point. There was no use in wasting time. 

The Strain looked at him, studying him carefully. 

“Why should I?” 

“Because if someone should suffer because of my wish, then it should be me, not Misaki!” 

“But aren’t you suffering, seeing the person you care about in pain?” 

“It doesn’t matter, because Misaki shouldn’t have to take the fall for my selfishness!” 

“That’s the thing though, selfishness often hurts others.” 

“If you’re saying you won’t-” Fushimi began, preparing to make an arrest. If he couldn’t reason with this scum, then he would force them to help Misaki. 

“I’m not saying that at all. If you are certain you want this wish broken, and are willing to face the consequences, then it will be done.” 

“Then do it.” 

“Are you certain though? Once the wish is undone, everything will reset to the time when the wish took effect. From what I can tell, that should be the morning of June 14th.” 

Fushimi swallowed. Erase the past three weeks with Misaki? Set them back to what they had been like before? 

But that meant he could do it again, didn’t it? He’d done it once already, so he could do it a second time. And this time, he could do it better, without making Misaki cry so much. Without getting into fights. He could be a good boyfriend if he did it again. This wasn’t a bad thing; it was a second chance. 

“I’m certain.” 

“Alright.” The strain reached into a pocket and pulled out a marble that shown from within. It reminded Fushimi of Anna’s marbles, back when she’d had the powers of the Slates, only this marble was a chaotic swirl of red and blue. The Strain put the marble on the counter, and raised a hammer, bringing it down on the marble and shattering it. When the hammer was liften again, there was only a fine powder left, not even shards. But Fushimi didn’t need to see that to know that the wish was broken. He’d felt it, like a shudder deep in the pit of his stomach. 

“The wish will be undone once you and that person have fallen asleep,” the Strain informed him. 

So before tomorrow. 

Tomorrow. 

Tomorrow was Misaki’s birthday. 

Damn. He’d messed up. 

“I-is there any way to delay it?” Fushimi heard himself ask. “Just one day?” 

“As I said, it takes effect once you fall asleep. If you want to delay for whatever reason, then don’t fall asleep. Is there anything else I can do for you?” 

Fushimi shook his head, backing away slowly. He turned and left the marketplace, not even bothering to continue his patrol. By all rights, he should head back to SCEPTRE 4 headquarters now to fill out his paperwork, but instead his feet took him straight to HOMRA. 

The bar wasn’t open yet, but the door was unlocked, so Fushimi let himself in. Kusanagi looked up at the sound of the bell, and sighed. 

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” 

“I need to see Misaki.” 

“You’re not doing anything that will cause headaches for Seri-chan, are you?” 

“If you’re that concerned with it, then call her and tell her I’m ill. I need to see Misaki.” 

“He’s out back, trying to spar with Kamamoto.” 

“Thanks.” 

Fushimi made his way around the bar and through the kitchen to the back door. He opened it and just barely avoided a collision with Kamamoto, who was flying through the air. 

“Ha!” Misaki shouted from where he was standing a few feet away. “That’s what you get for trying to choke Yataga- Saru!” Misaki’s face lit up as he saw Fushimi, and he rushed forward, trusting Fushimi to catch him in a hug. “What are you doing here?” 

Fushimi didn’t answer at first, instead stooping bit to bury his face in Misaki’s shoulder. 

“Saru?” 

Fushimi pulled out of the hug, plastering a smile on his face. 

“I just needed to see you, Misaki.” 

“What, you couldn’t wait until you finished work?” Misaki teased. “You are still supposed to be at work, right? We started sparring at 12:30, and I don’t think it’s been all that long…” 

“It’s only just after 1. But that doesn’t matter. Let’s just go.” 

“Saru, is something wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong, Misaki,” Fushimi lied. It was his first lie to his boyfriend, and he hated himself for it. But somehow, it didn’t seem right to tell Misaki that the next time he woke up, it would be over a month ago and they would never have dated. “I just want to be with you today. We can start celebrating your birthday a bit early.” 

Misaki scowled, seeing right through him, but then sighed and literally shrugged it off. 

“Okay. Mind if I shower first?” 

“Go ahead.” 

Fushimi waited in the bar while Misaki showered. Kusanagi must have been in a good mood, since he gave Fushimi some coffee to drink. Fushimi sipped it slowly, contemplating what to do next. If they could stay awake, he could still treat Misaki to a proper date for his birthday, but Fushimi wondered if he could manage it since he was still tired from the days he’d spent staying up to search for the Strain. To top it off, he’s spent the last three nights trying to plan the perfect date and trying to think up gift ideas rather than catching up on missed sleep. So just in case, he needs to make today count. It might be their last day together like this after all. At least until he asks Misaki out in the do-over. 

When Misaki came down from his shower, his hair was dripping wet, and he smelled like citrus. Fushimi ended up drying his hair for him, because he couldn’t have his boyfriend catching a cold, and because Misaki sighed happily when he did. He would miss the little moments like this most of all. Except if things truly reset, he wouldn’t remember them. 

Once Misaki’s hair was dry, they headed out. Misaki seemed excited, almost like a puppy, as they walked along, hand in hand. That gave Fushimi an idea. 

“Would you like to go to a pet store? You could play with puppies for a while or something, which would be fun for you, and I could watch, which would be fun for me,” he suggested. 

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that so you can go see the kittens? Aren’t you related to cats?” 

“Is that a yes?” 

“Sure.” 

They spent almost two hours at the pet shop. Misaki did indeed play with some dogs, laughing as one particularly excitable pup tried to climb up him and lick his face. After that, they wandered around, Fushimi describing some of the animals they passed at times, and at other times holding one up and making Misaki guess what it was. As they left, Misaki bemoaned the fact that he couldn’t keep a pet at HOMRA. Fushimi wondered if his lease allowed for pets, so that Misaki could keep a pet at his place, or even just move in with him. Not that it mattered, since things were going to reset. 

There was still time to kill before dinner, so they went and listened to a music store and listened to all the different sample songs. They went to a department store and got kicked out after the two of them started fencing with umbrellas. They found a quiet alleyway to kiss in. 

For dinner, they got okonomiyaki. Misaki almost burned himself several times, oblivious to where the grill was. He also got sauce on his face, and Fushimi enjoyed the expression Misaki got when he licked it off for him. If anyone stared at them after that, he didn’t care. They only had hours left. 

After dinner, Misaki came home with him, sensing his mood and knowing that he wasn’t ready to part. Not yet. Not before it was unavoidable. He could only fall asleep next to Misaki one last time, and he intended to do so. 

It was no different from the last time Misaki had stayed over, and yet it was completely different. No matter what they did, Fushimi felt a sense of impending doom. He kept thinking about how this was the last… About how it wasn’t the last, since they would surely fall in love again. And he kept wondering if Misaki would still love him when he didn’t need him the same way he did when Fushimi was the only thing he saw. 

Fushimi did his best to keep himself awake, keep Misaki awake as well, but all too soon the moment he’d feared was happening; Misaki was dozing off. And if Misaki fell asleep, it was all over. 

“Misaki?” 

“Mm?” 

“I don’t want to go to sleep. Will you stay up with me?” 

“Saru, aren’t you tired?” Misaki yawned, and Fushimi struggled to smother an answering yawn. 

“I am. But I want to stay awake.” 

“Weirdo.” Misaki laughed slightly, just once. 

“Yeah, I am. You should laugh some more. You have a wonderful laugh.” 

“Why’re you being so sappy all of a sudden?” 

“Because I want you to know how much I love you. I want you to always know that. Never forget it, Misaki.” 

“M’kay.” Misaki’s eyes drifted shut again, and it was all Fushimi could do not to shake him. Keeping Misaki awake was not worth incurring his wrath. 

“Misaki?” 

“Mm?” 

“Can we talk?” 

“Can it wait ‘til mornin’?” 

“I told you I don’t want to sleep. Please stay up with me?” 

Misaki didn’t answer, only snuggled close. 

“Misaki?” 

A light snore was his only answer. 

Dread clutched at Fushimi, like an iron vise gripping his chest. Misaki was asleep. It was 11:58. Two minutes until Misaki’s birthday. 

Fushimi stared at the clock, counting the seconds. 

At exactly midnight, he smoothed back Misaki’s hair, and kissed him on the forehead. 

“Goodnight, Misaki,” he whispered. “Happy birthday.” 

He choked a little as he said it. Misaki slumbered on. There would be no celebrating Misaki’s birthday now, and Fushimi was tired. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, holding him close and letting the tears slide down his face as sleep slowly overcame him.


	11. Chapter 11

Almost six months after the incident that destroyed the Dresden Slates, Fushimi Saruhiko woke up with the distinct feeling that something was missing. His mind felt muddied, as if he had been dreaming and woken up too slowly to remember it. But there was no time to be concerned about such things, as he needed to get up and get dressed and eat breakfast and go to work. And then there was the tedium of work, and then afterwards he had to make dinner and then clean up and then it was time to go to bed to rest up before another long day of the same. It was always like that. Always had been. Always would be. 

And yet even as his life continued on in much the same way as always, that feeling of something missing continued to pervade his mind. He kept feeling a steep longing for something, but he wasn’t sure what. It struck him at unusual times, like when he was trying to fall asleep or when he was fixing breakfast or when he passed by certain places. But there was nothing in common about such instances that he could see. 

Also bothersome was the way his hyperawareness of all things Yata Misaki seemed worse than ever. He’d always been well attuned to Misaki, and to any mention of him, but now anything that even sounded like Misaki’s name would be enough to make him completely lose focus, and the sight of red hair on the street could make him stop in his tracks, even though it was always some stranger and not the boy he’d been crushing on for years. 

Fushimi didn’t know what exactly had shifted that caused his mind to betray him like it did, but it didn’t matter. Misaki would always prioritize other people. He would never give Fushimi the attention that the latter craved. 

After almost two weeks of this, he found himself taking a different route while on patrol. He walked through the park, not certain why. He developed a sudden craving for taiyaki, even though he wasn’t particularly fond of the treat. And then, without him even noticing, his feet began taking him to the beach. 

The sky was clouding up, and a storm was imminent. It was not a day to be at the beach. But he supposed he could make sure no one was crazy enough to be out when the weather was about to turn. So he kept going. 

At first the beach seemed empty. Strangely, Fushimi felt disappointed rather than relieved. It was almost as if he’d expected something different. Since there was no one there, he decided to leave, meant to leave, but his feet were rooted to the spot. 

And then he saw the figure walking down the beach. 

He knew right away that it was Misaki. From this distance, it was impossible to tell since the other was little more than a silhouette, but he knew. 

When he approached, Misaki didn’t seem the least bit surprised to see him. 

“What are you doing here, idiot?” Fushimi asked. 

“I had a sudden inkling to come here to watch the storm. What about you, jackass?” 

“I’m patrolling. At the moment, I’m making sure there aren’t any morons stupid enough to be on the beach when there’s a storm.” 

“Well, you can go look for other morons then, since it’s not like you give a damn about me.” 

Fushimi didn’t budge. Misaki didn’t either. They continued to face off until the rain suddenly began gushing down. Fushimi immediately looked around for shelter. 

“There’s a bus stop over there!” he called to Misaki. “We can wait out the rain there!” 

“You go! I’m staying! This is way too fucking awesome to go hide away from!” 

“You’re going to get struck by lightning!” 

“Then I’ll die happy! Stop being a killjoy and try living for two seconds, Saru!” 

If anyone else had said it, Fushimi would have disregarded it. But this was Misaki, and he couldn’t ignore him of all people. So he obeyed. He tilted his head back, and spread his arms, and let the rain wash away that feeling that had been hounding him. It was as if this, right here, was what was missing. 

“Hey, wanna spar for old times’ sake?” Misaki asked suddenly. 

“In the pouring rain?” 

“Hell yeah! It’ll be fun!” 

“Don’t cry when I beat you, Misaki.” 

It wasn’t exactly a fair fight. Misaki didn’t have his skateboard, so he had none of his usual mobility that he relied on. He didn’t have any kind of weapon either. Fushimi, on the other hand, was supposed to be working, so he was armed as much as he ever was. Of course he won. 

During the course of their fight, they’d moved closer to the bus stop, and it was there that the fight ended, with Misaki pinned between him and the clear rear wall of the shelter. They stood frozen a moment, and Fushimi found himself gazing into Misaki’s eyes. 

“So,” Misaki asked, blushing a little, “are you going to kiss me or what?” 

Well, when Misaki asked like that… 

* * *

The hands on the clock were moving with painstaking slowness. They had been all day. But now there were just seconds left, 5, 4, 3, 2- 

“Hey Fushimi-san, we were all gonna go drinking, wanna come?” Akiyama called. 

Fushimi turned to face his coworkers, clicking his tongue in annoyance as he did. A cluster of them stood there, all looking expectantly at him. 

“Sorry, I already have plans to meet someone,” Fushimi said. 

“Ooooo, like a daaaaate?” Fuse asked teasingly, clearly expecting him to say no. 

“Something like that.” 

“Wait, seriously?” Doumyouji asked, pushing his way to the front of the cluster. “You have a girlfriend?” 

Suddenly they were all clamoring for information. 

_“What’s her name?”_

“Misaki.” 

_“How long have you been dating?”_

“58 days.” 

_“Almost two months? Dang!”_

_“What’s she look like? Is she cute?”_

“Very cute. Misaki’s not tall, but not particularly short either. Red hair, a bit on the long side. Hazel eyes that look gold in certain light.” 

_“What about her personality?”_

“Misaki’s a little shy. Gets embarrassed fairly easily. It’s really cute.” 

Fushimi tried to keep the smirk off his face. He was having fun telling them all about his “girlfriend”. 

“Fushimi-kun,” Awashima said, entering the room, “Yata-chan is waiting for you outside.” She paused a moment, then added, “And I’m not sure he’d appreciate your sense of humor right now.” Apparently she’d overheard. 

“What, is that Yatagarasu from HOMRA harassing you _again_?” Akiyama asked with a sigh. “Doesn’t he ever get tired of it?” 

“I’m pretty sure Fushimi does most of the harassing between the two of them,” Awashima said drily. 

Just then Fushimi’s phone rang. Misaki. He answered it without lifting it to his ear, not worrying about being able to hear. Sure enough, Misaki was shouting. 

“Oy, you bastard, hurry up! I’m hungry! Are we going to get dinner or not?” 

The looks on the faces of Fushimi’s clansmen were priceless. 

“I forgot to mention, Misaki’s also rather foul-mouthed and impatient. You’ll have to excuse me now. If I keep him waiting any longer, my boyfriend might actually get angry with me.” 

As Fushimi left the room, he could hear the startled whispers behind him. He bade Munakata, who was heading to join the others, a farewell, and then he was out the door and sweeping his Misaki into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off: it didn't make it into the story since it would have involved an awkward perspective change, but here's a quick summary of what happened after Fushimi left: Munakata walks in to everyone but Awashima freaking out over Fushimi and Yata dating, and overhears someone comment about how they've been dating for two months already. He then proceeds to short circuit everyone but Awashima by responding that he was certain they must be mistaken, it's surely been longer than that. After all, it's been obvious practically since Fushimi joined SCEPTRE 4 just how infatuated with Yata he is, and equally obvious that Yata is just as gay right back at him.  
> Basically, Munkata's gaydar doesn't miss anything.  
> Secondly, to people who have been leaving comments: THANK YOU SO MUCH. I really appreciate them, and more than once you guys made my day. And sorry for never responding; I'm just... awkward. Very. Beyond all reason.   
> But anyway, thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the short chapters. I have my reasons.


End file.
